


duties and promises

by atonalremix



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Action/Adventure, Dive Into The Heart (Kingdom Hearts), F/M, Keyblade Master Aqua (Kingdom Hearts), Keyblade Wielders (Kingdom Hearts), Keyblades (Kingdom Hearts), Kingdom Hearts III Spoilers, Land of Departure (Kingdom Hearts), Mentioned Terra (Kingdom Hearts), Mentioned Ventus (Kingdom Hearts), Minor Larxene/Marluxia (Kingdom Hearts), Multi, Post-Canon, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Time Skips, Twilight Town (Kingdom Hearts), Wayfinders (Kingdom Hearts)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22443421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atonalremix/pseuds/atonalremix
Summary: What happens after 'happily ever after?'For Aqua, it's continuing to fight and train Olette (and okay, Roxas too) in the art of the keyblade. For others like Larxene, it's to embrace the pain and suffering wedged deep inside her heart – and Olette? Well, she's not so sure what she'll do next. All she knows is that when war continues without an end in sight, no one really wins.or: the post-KH3 AU where Aqua chooses Olette as her apprentice, and only Roxas was Surprised.
Relationships: Aqua & Olette (Kingdom Hearts), Larxene & Olette (Kingdom Hearts), Olette/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 46
Kudos: 21





	1. prologue

A long time ago, a young Keyblade bearer had sought to preserve the universe. She had joined the Dandelions and decimated any enemy that crossed her path. The world was dark; she was light; there was no in-between.

Between missions, she and her best friend would spar in Daybreak Town, practicing their special moves and magic upon one another with the hope and promise that they would become Someone.

“Aren’t we already someone?” Her best friend had pointed out once, resting his keyblade on the edge of their makeshift battleground. “You're as real as I am. At this moment, this place, in this great, wide universe, you and I get to walk the Earth together. What could be more special than that?”

She had shot him a disapproving look, sheathing her blade in favor of a set of throwing knives. A good warrior had to rely on more than their guiding key, after all. “If you think like that, you’re going to get nowhere. Be a total nobody, at the end of the day.”

Fame and fortune favored the bold, but most importantly, the light shining within. Daybreak Town was living proof: if she and her friend fell behind, some other dynamic duo would rise and take their place. She couldn’t afford that. Heck, he couldn’t afford that! They were to avoid the Keyblade War and escape to the world beyond. They couldn’t perform their duties if they lagged behind in mind _or_ body.

Yet her foolish friend had laughed with all the richness in the universe. He threw up a shield spell to protect himself, extending his hands, “On the contrary, El– you’re running too fast. You’ll get there when you’re meant to.”

“Sure, but then the darkness will get there before I do.”

“Says who?”

“Says _me_.” 

She rolled back her shoulders and threw. The throwing knives landed firm in his shield, wedged between like fruit in pink-tinted gelatin. 

He had given her a sad, strange look as his shield faded in a storm of rose petals. The knives plummeted. He caught them by their grips, holding them carefully with his fingers.

“No, it won’t.” His voice was firm as he held them back out towards her. “You’re a fighter. You’ll beat back any darkness that tries.”

A small, tired huff escaped her lips. She seized the knives back, taking care to emphasize, “Easier said than done, buddy.” 

He frowned as he summoned his Keyblade. He readied himself, holding his blade in a defensive stance and waiting for her to strike.

“Believe me, El– if anyone can fight back their darkness and reclaim the light within, it’s you.”

She pretended to ignore that as she rolled her shoulders back and geared up for another round. What did stupid best friends know about the heart, anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is being written for the KH Rogue Nebula!! Many, many thanks to the supportive mod team for all of their cheerleading, as well as to Jay and Steph for their editing and characterization help. ♥ 
> 
> I hope you enjoy what we've got in store, and as always, let me know how I'm doing!


	2. promises

Olette used to dream about being a chef.

She had once harbored grand fantasies about building up her repertoire by working alongside the greats of the universe – Chef Colette in Paris, Chef Bouche in the outskirts of France, and of course, Little Chef here in Twilight Town. 

Great chefs learned from the best, after all, and those chefs had created dishes that united whole communities together. Dishes like Chef Bouche’s grey stuff and Little Chef’s ratatouille regularly filled magazine spreads, as did Chef Colette’s tiramisu. Olette’s personal dish (her secret hope) was hand-made dumplings, with pleated folds and sauteed vegetable filling that Hayner and Pence practically inhaled by the handful. 

(Truth be told, their smiles were worth all of those long hours slaving away in the hot kitchen, covered in flour and sticky bits of dumpling dough.)

If her friends weren't gobbling down her dumplings like candy, they were sharing sea-salt ice cream on the tower, or the hot, warm pretzels shared over hot, sandy beaches during summer vacation. Hayner would feed her pretzel bites, or maybe Pence would slice a whole watermelon and remind her to not spit out seeds. With Roxas and Xion joining their ranks, their communal meals and snacks had only tightened those bonds. 

Unfortunately, Bistro food didn’t come cheap. 

So when Mr. Scrooge had expanded the restaurant and hired more employees, Olette had immediately handed in her application. Her dream of working beside Little Chef, Scrooge’s insight, and of course, the lure of free food had collided together in a beautiful, perfect storm. 

Of course, all of those precious, important dreams had withered and died on her first day there.

Her poor, sweet Roxas was standing before a gas stove with jerky, uneven stirring and pouring. Little Chef – mischievous, ambitious rat! – was tugging on Roxas's spiky strands like a puppeteer. He went left when Roxas went right; he went up when Roxas went down; and the blueberry pancakes were fed into the flames before 7 AM even struck.

Olette could only take one long, solemn look at the roaring fire before saying a silent prayer.

She would have turned tail and left, just in time for the morning rush of customers, if Roxas hadn't turned on her with giant, pleading eyes –

“Please?” He clasped his hands in a desperate bargain. “You'll be way better than me, Olette. You actually _wanted_ to be in the kitchen.”

At what cost? Her precious breakfast going up in flames?

Roxas's praying, clasped hands were still trembling. His entire body was, now that she was looking at him. Worse, their shifts wouldn't end until noon. The cafe would fall apart without a chef, and well, Little Chef was too nimble and short for a human-sized kitchen.

“Okay,” she found herself saying, against her better judgment and instincts, “I'll take over."

After the first sudden, sharp tug, Olette understood Little Chef's instructions. They fell into a steady rhythm of frying or scrambling eggs, adding hollandaise sauce, or flipping over pancakes, depending on the customers' wishes.

Today, Olette held the star role of lead chef, if only for a few fleeting hours. She just wished she had time to savor it all. 

As she peeled carrots and chopped vegetables for her next dish, she couldn’t help looking over at Roxas.

He had taken over her role as a waiter, floating between the kitchen and front of the house. He balanced giant platters of plates on both arms, holding them as one might a bunch of feathers. Every time he walked in, he set empty ones for the dish washer and picked up finished orders for hungry customers. No order was too big or small– each received his careful, slow touch and practiced, effortless balance.

His uniform of a button-down white shirt and black slacks was well-tailored, too, with a vest that hugged his chest, although no amount of hair gel could keep his spikes in place. He was– he was a friend! A very good-looking friend who was doing _her_ a solid!

She had to focus.

Little Chef whimpered, peering down at her from above. Olette blinked, then stared down at her burnt pancake.

“Oh, man…” She winced, throwing the black, charred remains into the trash. “Sorry, little guy. I'll be more careful next time.”

Little Chef sighed, his shoulders slumping in disappointment.

“I know, I know,” she said, already grabbing a bunch of washed vegetables and chopping them for another dish. “I gotta stay focused.”

While Olette wasn't a master chef herself just yet, she had perfected a few dishes. She could fry an egg. She could make french toast, eggs benedict, and of course, breakfast potatoes and sausage. More pressingly, she could flip a solid stack of buttermilk pancakes.

(Well, she _could_ when she wasn’t staring at Roxas all morning.)

Sure, hers weren't as fluffy as the ones made under Little Chef's guiding hand, but the blueberries were still vibrant and bright without bleeding into the rest of the batter. They were golden brown and about 6 or 7 inches in diameter, just like Mom had taught her.

Little Chef hopped off her and grabbed a fork to taste-test her solo attempt. He bit into the first pancake– and his eyes lit up as he swooned. Bless him, he was stumbling! Over her pancake!

“Thank you!” Olette allowed herself a relieved, if humbled laugh. “Seriously, I’m so glad you liked it.”

Then the pots and pans shook with Little Chef’s wobbling footsteps. The whole building was shaking, really. Was this an earthquake? Twilight Town never got earthquakes. They were lucky if they got _rain_.

“ _ARE YOU KIDDING ME?_ ” Roxas was screaming from the front of the house. "No way!” 

His footsteps grew louder and heavier as the doors jerked back, slamming against the walls and denting them at the corner. He slammed the platter on the counter; the plates rattled, shaking and breaking into millions of pieces.

His ensuing scream was a guttural, primal cry with no real language. He kicked the kitchen counter, and the cabinets– they rattled and hook with him and his now-swollen foot. 

“I’m completely serious!” A young woman yelled as she sprinted in after him. “I wouldn’t be kidding about something this dire!” 

Roxas snarled, standing at his full height. "I don't care! You should’ve asked Ventus first!” 

The woman's expression fell, “That's not fair.”

“Neither are you!”

Olette stared up at Little Chef, then back at the salt she was pouring into her next batch of pancakes. The metal bowl was almost overflowing, full of salt and more salt and very, very little pancake batter.

Little Chef should've berated her for such a rookie mistake. Then again, a random person _had_ just barged into the back of the kitchen. The rest of the restaurant could hear them from here. Scratch that, the whole neighborhood could probably hear– and those two weren’t exactly sharing pleasantries. 

Olette had to do something, and fast. 

She threw herself between them, holding both arms out, “Hold on! Can we take this outside?” 

Both jumped at her voice. Roxas froze, his head slowly turning to face Olette and Little Chef, while the woman seemed to register Olette’s mere presence for the first time.

“Olette?” The woman paused, taking an awkward step back towards the doors. “I–I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Of course she does.” Roxas rushed towards Olette, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “She’s not interested, either, before you get any grand ideas.” 

The woman looked almost offended. “I wasn’t planning on it.” 

Now Olette felt like she should know her. She frowned, taking a closer look at the young woman. Blue hair that just hit the woman’s shoulders, navy turtleneck, a high-waisted skirt that fell at her ankles, a heart-like emblem over her chest–

“Aqua?” Olette blinked back pleasant, if bewildered, surprise. “Long time no see!” 

She hadn’t seen most of Sora’s friends in a while, if she were being truly honest.

Last she had heard, Sora, Riku, and Kairi had begun another journey. King Mickey, Donald, and Goofy were settling into royal life at Disney Castle. Naminé and Ienzo were studying under Ansem the Wise’s tutelage in Radiant Garden, and Terra, Aqua, and Ven had returned to the Land of Departure. Isa and Lea dropped by the Bistro sometimes, and of course, Xion and Roxas were attending school with her. 

Something big must’ve happened. Terra, Aqua, and Ven believed in something called ‘world order,’ and that unspoken rule had forbidden them from including themselves in the tapestry of Twilight Town. Why else would Aqua be in town?

“Likewise, Olette.” Aqua’s smile was patient, if also tired. “I won’t keep you, but well… let’s talk after your shift’s over?” 

Roxas’s face darkened and his grip around her shoulders tightened, but Olette paid him zero heed for the moment. 

She nodded, “I’ll think about it.” 

As Aqua returned to the front of the house, Roxas shot Olette another desperate, pleading look– one that was far worse than just a few hours ago.

She decided to ask, “What happened back there?”

“Aqua thought she could pull me away from all of you,” Roxas said with a derisive snort, peering down at their knuckles and intertwined fingers. “I’m done. Finished. Retired. Out of the game entirely.”

Olette sighed. “Well, that was fairly obvious.”

The rest of the cafe would’ve agreed with her. Roxas had completely abandoned his old life for one of relative normalcy. He got a part time job here at the Bistro. He went to school with Olette, Xion, Hayner, and Pence. He argued with Seifer over who would win the upcoming Struggle tournaments (and sometimes, he and Seifer duked it out then and there). 

He had woven himself into the everyday, ordinary rituals of Twilight Town, and weirdly enough, he seemed to like it that way. He chose _them_. He wanted this life. This boring, priceless, mundane, ordinary life.

Before she could take it back, she added, “I’m just glad you’re here with us.”

“Really?” Roxas’s voice cracked. Tears were starting to form in his sunken, morose eyes as he anxiously rubbed them away, “You really think that? That I’m one of you? That… we’re friends?”

“Of course we are, silly. We’ve always been friends.” 

Olette turned around to give Roxas a light, quick hug, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close.

He crumpled in her embrace, resting his head on her shoulders. His hands dug into her, clutching her for dear life as muffled sobs escaped his throat. His entire body turned limp and heavy, and for the first time since they had met– Olette was starting to understand how much his adventures had worn him out.

Little Chef gave the two of them the rest of the day off. 

Roxas had wanted to stay longer and properly finish his shift, but Little Chef’s harsh glare had ended the conversation. 

So Roxas and Olette had grabbed two lattes to go and headed outside. 

Roxas broke away first, turning his gaze towards the open-air cinema where Xion, Hayner, and Pence worked. At this hour, only a few people were milling about, waiting for the next Mickey short to run. 

“ _I won’t be long,_ ” he had promised, already grabbing his latte from her and turning towards the cinema’s ticket booth. “ _I’ve already texted her, but I want to see her. Just in case Aqua or Terra or someone got to her first._ ”

Olette couldn’t blame him. Part of her was still fretting over how shaken up Roxas had gotten (how red and bloodshot his eyes had gotten), even if Roxas could handle himself. More importantly, Roxas and Xion shared an important history. Xion would understand Roxas’s reluctance, and ultimately give him the advice and guidance he sorely needed. 

In the meantime, Olette wanted to take a walk and get this morning out of her head. Maybe take a few more sips of her coffee and “chill.” If she could get Aqua’s voice out of her head, if only Aqua wouldn’t call out to her and–

“Olette!” Boy, Aqua’s voice sounded real. Too real. “Hey! Olette! You have a minute?”

Olette blinked, looking up from her half-empty drink. Oh, that hadn’t been her imagination. 

“Sure,” she waved, holding up her drink. “Come on over.”

Aqua rushed to her side, leaning her back against the brick wall behind them and staring up at the eternally-setting sky. Although they stood side-by-side, staring at the same scene and sky, they couldn't have felt further apart.

“So…” Olette figured she should address the elephant in the room first. “Why _did_ you come to Twilight Town? Because I have a feeling that it wasn’t the food.”

Aqua managed a faint, if genuine, smile. “The food was a close second.”

With that, she glanced around the streets, waiting for a couple of stragglers to hurry inside the movie theater before she allowed herself a sigh. 

Olette waited. Seconds seemed to turn into minutes, and minutes seemed to turn into hours as Aqua peered up at the empty road ahead.

After what felt like an eternity, Aqua admitted, “I… I actually came to talk to Roxas and Xion. I thought they might want to keep training. Without Sora, Riku, and Kairi, we’re down a few Keyblade bearers and I can’t help thinking that we’ll need more.”

“How come?”

“How come we need more Keyblade wielders, or how come Roxas and Xion?”

“Both.” Olette didn’t hesitate. “Roxas doesn’t want to wield a keyblade again, and you all _just_ won your last war. It doesn’t sound like you’ll need anyone for a while.”

“Terra told me the same thing.” Aqua’s laugh was soft, yet hollow. “I’m worrying over nothing, and honestly, I know you’re not involved in this whatsoever… but I have this gut feeling that something’s off.”

“Your gut feeling’s usually right.”

Aqua’s expression soured. “So I’ve come to realize.”

If Aqua really wanted to train a Keyblade bearer, though, what about—

“Doesn’t Lea also have a keyblade? Or maybe that was Isa…”

“No, Lea has one. He also happens to be a master in his own right,” Aqua had to admit, tapping a foot against the cobbled street. “We want to find people that we _can_ teach, just in case the Heartless come back.”

No wonder Roxas had wept in Olette’s arms.

Fairytales ended with ‘happily ever after,’ not ‘now what.’ Authors never wrote about what must’ve happened afterwards: heroes rebuilding their kingdoms and struggling to find their balance in a world that couldn’t understand their powers. Princes and princesses navigating awkward political climates. Warriors reluctant to sheath their swords. 

The aftermath of the Keyblade War must have been the same. 

Roxas may have clung to the Usual Gang and the Bistro, but Xion stood in the shadows of Twilight Town’s new cinema and observed them all like a woman on a mission. Lea and Isa were rebuilding their lives: finding new jobs and homes and reclaiming their adulthood. On the other hand, Sora, Riku, and Kairi refused to believe the war ended; they continued the journey, and inevitably, the never-ending battle. 

Aqua hadn’t waded into any of those waters. She chose to build an army for a battle that may never happen. 

The war was over, as was Roxas's attachments to that life and the numerous grievances it had given him, but Aqua’s personal battle still raged on. 

Olette couldn’t say she had experienced that feeling much, if at all. When the Heartless and weird floating creatures had showed up on her doorstep, she had run as far as her legs could take her. She couldn’t imagine wielding a keyblade, let alone rushing into the thick of combat. She couldn’t imagine that surge of adrenaline, or the rapid-fire beat of her heart, as she fought her enemies back. Twilight Town had its fair share of crime, certainly, but not of the warmongering kind and certainly not of the universe-shattering kind. 

As foreign as this malaise and uncertainty felt, Aqua couldn't - and shouldn't - handle them alone. Worse, her expression and the unspoken plea in her voice was practically begging for help. 

Friends were power, Sora had once said during his last visit. As long as you had each other, you could handle any army running at you and weather any storm. Your hearts would guide each other back home. 

She couldn’t agree with Aqua’s plan. She _especially_ couldn’t let Roxas fall back into the life he had abandoned. 

So then and there, she promised herself - she would bring Aqua home and end the war raging within the woman’s heart. Even if that meant taking on far, far more than she could reasonably handle on her own. 

“I guess…” Olette bit her lower lip, forcing herself to ask, “You guys really don’t get to rest for even a minute, huh?”

“Not really, no.” Aqua peered down at a blue star-shaped charm held in her hands. “I kind of envy Roxas, though. He knows what he wants, and how to chase after it.”

“I think you do too.”

Aqua stared at her. “How come?”

“You came all this way for him. If you were truly that indecisive, you wouldn’t have traveled all the way here, let alone act with such conviction.” Olette placed a hand over her heart. “You’re strong too, Aqua. Much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Aqua was staring at her with that same determination, or maybe unwavering faith– like something had reignited her spirit. “Thanks, Olette, for having faith in me.”

“Of course. So if you’re not asking Roxas, or Xion, or Lea… what do you plan on doing next?”

“I think... I’m going to find an apprentice.”

“Oh, like taking on a sous-chef.” Olette blinked. She wasn't sure what she had expected. but that wasn't it. “My world... doesn't really do that anymore. Most of the time, we’ll go to university and study under a professor. We'll get a degree and a fancy piece of paper, rather than learning on the job.” 

Even if Chef Olette had studied under the greats, she would inevitably have enrolled in culinary school and earned a degree. She had wanted to spread her wings and learn everywhere– in Twilight Town, in Radiant Garden, and in the best schools the universe could offer. 

Apprenticeship, as neat as that sounded, was beyond anything Olette could imagine for herself _or_ her friends. Roxas wanted to attend uni and experience college life – and Olette was going to be there beside him every step of the way. They all were. They had promised each other that no matter what they studied, the five of them would take the University of Twilight Town by storm and soak up all the knowledge its campus had to offer. Maybe beat Seifer too, if he somehow managed to get a degree too. 

“My world used to be like that.” Aqua’s eyes glinted with amusement, “I wish we had the numbers to justify a school, but there just aren’t enough Keyblade wielders anymore.”

So Olette kept hearing. 

She couldn’t find the heart to agree. There seemed to be enough already, what with half her social circle wielding one. Sora got a keyblade, Roxas got a keyblade, everyone eventually gets a keyblade! For a rare weapon, they sure kept popping up everywhere.

Olette had to ask, “Then you’re trying to rebuild a school?”

“Bit by bit. It won’t happen overnight, but if I find the apprentice that I think I’m looking for… I know she’ll help me find my way.”

“That’s a lot to expect from anyone.” Olette gave Aqua a curious glance, hoping she was misunderstanding the hidden implication, “I just hope she’ll live up to those expectations.”

“I think she will.”

Aqua summoned a shining blue blade in her hands and held it out towards Olette.

“This is my Keyblade,” she explained, her voice growing softer. “I know you’ve seen Sora’s and maybe Roxas’s, but mine… well, you can see the differences.”

Her blade was longer, for one, and far softer in appearance. Stars were everywhere, from the hilt to the keychain dangling off it. Olette reached out to touch it, bracing herself for a sudden sharp pain - but it was rigid and cool, like the edges of a bare smartphone.

Olette drew in a breath. “So your apprentice would have one of their own?”

Aqua nodded. “Do you want to hold it?”

“Um, sure.” Olette held out her hand, accepting the blade. It felt heavier - much heavier - than she expected, and she almost sunk to the floor from its weight.

“You okay?”

Olette winced. “I will be.”

“In that case…” Aqua closed her eyes as her hands rested on top of Olette’s. “So long as you have the makings, then through this simple act of taking, its wielder you shall one day be.”

A sudden warmth filled Olette’s chest, and the blade immediately hollowed out, as if it had lessened both in weight and volume. She stared at Aqua as the weapon dissolved into slivers of light– “Was that…?”

“It’s what I would’ve told my apprentice, if I found one.”

“And did you?”

“That, I’ll have to see.” Aqua turned towards the train station. “Thanks again. I know I’m keeping you from your friends, so…”

“It really wasn’t a problem.”

Confusing, maybe, and full of new questions, but not a problem.

Roxas coughed from behind her, and Olette could only laugh in both fear and anxious nerves as she was being summoned. So she threw her now-empty latte in the trash and followed him to the Usual Spot. 

“What did she tell you?” He hissed, right as they ducked a corner and headed into the alley leading to their old hang-out. 

Olette couldn’t help rolling her eyes back at him. “Nothing terrible. She worries too much, that's all." 

“Yeah, but _un_ like you, she’s keen on making her keyblade school a reality.”

“As long as her students want to be there, she’ll be fine.”

Roxas shot her a disparaging look as he unlocked the door and reached for the light switch. 

“That’s the whole problem.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “A long time ago, they had a whole world full of keyblade wielders. Now, it’s just a handful of us. Maybe there’s a reason they’re so limited.”

She couldn’t speak to the history of the keyblade or multiple worlds, but she knew a warning when she heard one. Absolute power corrupts; actual wielders shouldn’t want this kind of power. Aqua’s search was futile. All of these were said, and yet not said, as Roxas looked back at her.

“I’ll be careful,” Olette told Roxas as she sat down on the couch and pulled out her homework, skimming her notebooks for the problem set she was supposed to complete. 

They had a few hours to kill until their train home; the least she could do was get the rest of her life in gear. 

Roxas reached for a set of old darts under the couch and aimed a couple at the old bullseye. 

His darts hit square in the middle as he turned to look at her, with that same sad, desperate look he had been giving her all day. “I know you will. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

As Olette turned the corner, texting Hayner, Xion, and Pence about the day’s events, she saw Aqua sitting on the steps of the central train station. She was leaning back, hands on the steps behind her, as she watched school kids skateboard past her and perform for a one-woman audience.

“Long time no see." Aqua laughed, giving Olette a slight wave. 

“You’re still here?” Olette blinked, feeling like an old owl as she clutched her purse. “I thought you were heading home…?”

“I had some time to kill, so I figured I would people-watch.”

“See anything interesting?”

“Not yet.” Aqua rose to her feet, dusting off her skirt. “Hey, Olette… about earlier, when I said I’d found an apprentice…”

Olette’s heart sank. Please be wrong. For the first time in her whole life, please be wrong. Please be like the dreams that withered up and died with Roxas's flames this morning, please don't–

“Would you want to be said apprentice?”

“I don't know.” Olette drew in a fearful breath. “What would that involve?”

She _really_ needed to get home. She had to kiss Mom and Dad hello, maybe help them with dinner prep, and finish off the rest of her college applications. Sure, she had a couple of years before she could go, but this was really more than she could handle. 

Why did she have to promise she would bring Aqua home? At this rate, she couldn't even bring herself home. 

“Right now, just seeing if you can summon the keyblade.”

The clock seemed to stand still behind Aqua. Everything - people, the wind, the trains - fell silent. Olette could only feel her heart racing as she let go of her purse strings and extended an arm, just like she had seen Sora do.

He didn’t seem to recite any incantation. He must’ve imagined the blade showing up in his hand as he flicked his wrist and–

A shimmering, glittering giant key materialized in Olette’s hands. She sucked in a breath as she gripped its handle, holding it up to the twilit sky.

This key was identical to the ones Sora and Roxas wielded. Sure, its blade was a bright bronze, with a sun keychain hanging off its handle, and rounded edges for a key - but it was a key. Her key.

“Oh,” was all Olette could say.

“I knew it.” Aqua beamed, her voice and face were full of radiant warmth. “I trust you’ll know what to do with it?”

“Absolutely not,” Roxas’s voice cut out from behind her.

Although she couldn’t see the expression on his face, his voice was two octaves lower than usual, devoid of all emotion and light. His footsteps were heavier, as if rooted to the ground, and the peripherals of her vision caught two bright flashes of light–

Roxas jumped forward, keyblades in hand. He was practically snarling at Aqua, “I _knew_ I saw your keyblade back there! You went and gave _Olette_ one?”

“Why, yes.” Aqua blinked back genuine surprise, resting her hand over her heart. “She showed the most promise and potential out of anyone here.”

Were Roxas not gnashing his teeth and hunching his spine like a wounded cat, Olette might’ve believed Aqua. She might’ve been flattered by such an unprompted and flattering compliment. As she stood, she could feel herself shrinking behind Roxas, her gaze nervously darting towards him.

“She’s the most _normal_ one out of all of us.” Roxas’s gaze was level, even as he protectively scooped Olette in his arm. “You don’t get to drag her into this.”

“She didn’t drag me,” Olette tried to protest, flinching at his sudden touch. “I didn’t even say yes yet!”

“But you were going to?”

“I don’t know.”

Roxas sucked in a breath. Although he said nothing as he stared right through her, his rigid body– with newly-emerging wrinkles on his forehead and the tight, white-knuckled grip on his weapon spoke volumes. He wanted her to refuse this fate.

Problem was, she alone held this power. 

If Aqua wanted to bestow this precious weapon on her, just as Roxas wanted her to refuse it – their opinions didn’t matter. The real question, then, was on her.

What did she want to do? 

She wanted to bring Aqua home. Make the choice that would end this war, and hopefully convince Aqua that there was more than one way to find meaning in a world that didn't _need_ people hacking and slashing their way to victory. 

“The keyblade lets you protect everyone, right?” Olette asked instead, more to Roxas than Aqua. If anyone would understand her choice, it would be him – the person who knew another her, who seemed to know her more than she knew herself. “Why would I turn it down??”

“Because then you would have to travel to other worlds whenever there’s trouble.” Roxas pulled her closer, his fingers clutching her arm and the fabric of her work shirt. “You would have to prioritize other people and things, and you wouldn’t be able to work at the Bistro or help us with our school projects or….”

Or continue her ordinary life. Her job, her school, even her homework and dreams for the future would have to be put on hold as she sorted the details of her apprenticeship. Without Hayner, Pence, Roxas, or Xion. She would have to say good-bye and leave them behind.

“Wait.” Aqua’s face fell as she regarded Roxas, then Olette. “You think I would just force her into this? Make her leave her home and family when she has a perfectly good one right here?”

“I’m saying that whenever a Keyblade’s involved, no one gets to choose.”

The air was stiff. Their keyblades could cut through the tension and still not fully yield. Yet, despite his defensive stance, despite his furrowed brow and held weapon, Roxas’s heart was beating like a hummingbird, and his hands were turning red from the grip. His brave face was cracking through his knuckles and shaking grip; any second now, it would break, and he would thrust his weapon forward. All because of her.

Logically, Olette knew that Roxas would’ve thrown himself face-first into any danger she faced because of their friendship - a bond that transcended dimensions. Emotionally, she couldn’t bear to see him like this.

Time felt still. In Twilight Town, the sky never foretold the hour, leaving everyone to guess based off subtle hues in the sky. Fire-red sunsets told earlier hours than deep, blue-streaked ones, and purple ones always occurred closer to the real golden hour. Their current sunset was a bright, inviting orange - the kind that always occurred when a ‘real’ sun would stretch across the horizon.

Olette had never seen the sun dip below the horizon, nor had she ever woken up to greet a new day. She imagined a blue, clear sky to be like watching a meteor shower: ephemeral and miraculous. Like witnessing a true, rare mystery of the universe.

Roxas and Aqua must’ve experienced all of that and more, in saving the universe from the shadowy blobs and white masked men that attacked Twilight Town again and again, yet - Roxas would give that all up in a heartbeat for them. No, he _had_ given it all up for them, and Olette was spitting on that sacrifice with a keyblade of her own.

She swallowed, reaching out for Roxas’s hand and wrapping hers above his.

“Hey,” Olette murmured, keeping her voice purposefully soft, lower than the train that circled nearby. “It’ll be okay.”

He stared back at her, eyes wide, “Are you sure?”

“As sure as I’ll ever be. You don’t have to protect me anymore.”

“It’s not _protect_ so much as…” He sighed, “If you tell Aqua yes, you're dooming yourself to fight in another stupid war. These weapons don't seem to know peace if it smacked them in the blade. You'll... you'll forget what normal feels like.”

He couldn’t promise her anything, he was saying with a hummingbird heart. Olette wanted to reassure him otherwise. That no matter how many planners and schedules she made, or how many part-time jobs she organized, something would always throw a wrench in her color-coordinated efforts.

That was life. Even the best of planners succumbed to fate.

“I want to try my best to keep her here, Roxas. She doesn't have to move in with me, or even travel to the castle that often,” Aqua interrupted, still clutching something in the palm of her hand. “Please. Give this a chance. Let me teach Olette a thing or two, and let her decide how she wants to go about it.”

Roxas extended his keyblade, shooting a ball of fire past Aqua. 

It hit a nearby barrel, catching fire and exploding upon contact. A circle of ash was all that remained. He stared at the ash, the remnants of fire rising to the sky, and even a stunned Aqua before he assumed a fighting stance.

“I think I’ll have better chances fighting it out.”

Olette pulled down his arm, “Or I could end this and just tell Aqua yes!” 

“Move!” Roxas’s eyes were pleading, desperate, as he squirmed in her grip. His blade was trembling. “You don’t have to do this!”

“Neither do you!”

He had chosen to stay here. After all the worlds he had seen, after all that he had experienced with the Organization, he chose this boring, peaceful little world. Twilight Town became his home - and frankly, it would always be Olette’s too. Too many precious memories lived here, tangled up in old movies and odd part-time jobs, and traveling the train to cut across town, in Hayner and Seifer duking it out for no good reason, and now in Roxas and Xion joining their group and becoming their best friends.

A keyblade wouldn’t change that. If anything, it may strengthen her resolve to protect her home. She didn't have to fight. She wanted to promise herself that she wouldn't fight. Surely a weapon so important and ostensibly 'rare' could have multiple uses. Like, she didn't know, actually unlocking doors rather than bashing them into a million pieces. 

At her words, Roxas's own blades clattered to the ground, ringing with an echo that rivaled the clock tower.

“Fine.” Roxas spit, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He avoided both Aqua’s and Olette’s gaze, “You can go… but only if I get to come along.”

Olette rushed to hold him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I wouldn’t have dreamed of leaving without you.”

She felt so selfish, ripping him apart from a life he had sought, but she couldn’t leave him. Not when he lashed out at anything and anyone that would pull him away. Her fingers clung to his shirt, to his arms, as she buried her head on his shoulder.

His entire body melted in her touch; Olette pulled away, only for him to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her back in. If Aqua hadn’t coughed, they might’ve stood there for a while.

As Roxas pulled away, he narrowed his eyes at Aqua and held up a couple of fingers. “I still have a few conditions. One, I’m coming along on all of your lessons. Two, you can take her on _one_ practice mission. Three, Olette makes the final call on whether she wants more. If she chooses to go home, she walks away forever. She gets to forget this ever happened - and four? If she’s done, then so are Xion and I. You can't call us the next time someone rises from the dead.”

Aqua’s smile was a Knowing one. “Xion already told me no, anyway. As for Olette… I think we can abide by those terms.”

So Xion had been spared this fate. Roxas and Olette’s shoulders slumped in relief at the news. Either Hayner and Pence had protected her, or Xion had defied her old fate with newfound willpower - with the best possible outcome. Xion was free of all of this – whatever ‘this’ ended up being. 

Olette had no doubts that Twilight Town loved Xion as much as Xion seemed to love it. At least one of them was getting to stay and enjoy its tranquility. 

Squeezing Roxas's wrist, Olette shot him a grateful look. “I think we can too. What do you say, Roxas?”

“I say let's get this over and done with,” he teased, even if his smile didn't quite reach his eyes just yet.

It may not be perfect, let alone how she envisioned her life to go, but she would give this a shot. If she was going to choose the extraordinary, and pull Roxas away from their life, she might as well see this through to the end.


	3. lessons

Olette's first lessons were to begin in the Land of Departure– Aqua's homeworld, and a place new to Roxas and Olette alike.

(“I really don’t know what to expect,” he had admitted, “So keep your guard up.”)

After school, Olette and Roxas would take a gummi ship, dock upon the old piers, and wait for Aqua and Terra to greet them. As they descended upon the open, white plain, the entire world seemed to fall silent. This vast, beautiful land felt lonely. Deeply, profoundly lonely.

She couldn’t pinpoint her finger on why the tall, desolate halls of the castle or the architecture creaked with a sense of loss, but the entire world seemed exhausted. Even the foundation shifted with every footstep.

She must’ve been imagining things. After all, Twilight Town was just as old as this castle, if not even older. Back home, the cobblestone streets were uneven and hard to walk on; some of the lamplights fizzled every few hours; and of course, the trains were rarely on time.

Every world must’ve had a similar veneer of perfection. At a first glance, they stood tall and majestic, but a closer inspection would reveal its true heart– and the face it could never fully reveal to the public. 

Castle walls were nicked with sword marks and the floors scuffed with long-gone footsteps. The once-vibrant, thick fabrics were faded from the sun. As empty and haunted as these halls felt, however, they were once loved. Aqua navigated these halls too well to regard the place with anything less. Offhand, she spoke about old lessons in one room, or how sparring sessions had occurred in that hall. 

No one had stepped foot in most of the building for quite sometime – yet Olette could stop and insert herself into that once-lively fold. Thousands of students had studied here, and now, she would carry on their legacy. Even if she hadn't quite _planned_ on doing such a thing.

As they continued their impromptu tour, Olette kept her gaze forward, rubbing her arms together to ward off the chill.

Roxas slowed his pace to whisper, “You okay?”

“Yeah, just cold.”

He paused, reaching out for her hand and holding it tight. A small warmth passed from his fingers to hers. Olette stared down at their interlocked hands, and at how easily he had leaned into her. As if they had always been this close. Maybe they had been, in that alternate world where they had once been friends. 

Remembering her manners, Olette squeezed his hand and murmured, “Thank you. What kind of magic was that?”

“No magic.” Roxas gave her an amused, if tired, smile. “Fire would’ve, well, set you on fire.”

She remembered the exploding barrel– and how everyone in sight had scattered like the wind. Somehow, she had assumed that had been a strong burst of magic, rather than a barebones fire spell.

Olette let out a small puff of laughter. “That strong?”

“That hot. If it gets bad, we’ll ask Aqua to light a fireplace or something. This place is too old to have any sort of central heating.”

The ceilings were too tall, for one, and the halls hummed with drafty winds from outside. The repairs would be numerous and difficult, even for ones as strong as Aqua and her friends. Central heat (and AC) would be an afterthought.

“We can grab you a jacket,” Terra called, looking back at them over his shoulder. “I promise, it gets warmer as the day goes on.”

Olette took one look at their intertwined hands, then at Roxas’s sudden red face, before she shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

Training started slow. Olette was first instructed to summon her keyblade over and over, until it felt like second nature. Again. Again. Again until her hands ached.

The motion seemed effortless– and maybe to the boys, it had been.

To Olette, a mere thrust was like someone punching her in the gut. She wasn’t _un_ athletic by any stretch of the imagination. She ran a decent amount, she played sports with Hayner sometimes, and she loved the adrenaline pumping through her blood.

Yet her energy seemed to leave her arm every time she thrust the keyblade forward. Her hands and feet had to move too. Coordination, grace - all of it would come with practice.

Aqua was using a wooden stick, so as to not harm Olette, but Olette couldn’t even land a hit.

“You’ve got it!” Roxas called from the side as he cupped his hands, sitting down next to Ventus. “Come on, Olette!”

“Stand strong!” Terra added, with what must've been extra enthusiasm, “You're doing great!”

For a moment, this felt like a Struggle tournament. Olette waged her Keyblade against Aqua in search of points and a Champion's title– and Roxas was yelling and screaming and shouting until his lungs wore out. Ventus brought food for them to share. The bleachers were full of her loving fans. The battlefield was her against her master. Only one could be the next Twilight Town Champion. 

In the past, her boys Hayner and Roxas (wait, Roxas?) would compete every single year and never get close to the prize –

They would skin their knees and fall, using their struggle bat for support as they sucked in deep breaths and –

They would meet their enemy with emotionless smiles, forcing themselves back up before going for another round. They never, ever gave up.

It was high time Olette tried the same.

She jumped back, sucking in a deep breath before she pulled her weapon back and recalled the movements that Sora had once done before her. Swing the keyblade around, will it to come back to her like a boomerang–

“Strike Raid!”

The weapon was flung towards Aqua, swinging right at her. She extended her arms, forcing a dome-shaped shield to surround her from all sides.

The blade bounced off the shield. Olette staggered back from the sudden weight. She grinned back at Aqua and summoned her blade again. 

“Well, Master Aqua?” She was feeling cocky, but it must’ve been the adrenaline talking. “Let’s go again.”

Aqua returned that smile, tossing her wooden sword aside. “Now you’ve got it!”

Every muscle in her body was aching.

Olette should’ve seen it coming. Every keyblade wielder she had ever met had toned arms and legs, with the stamina to match, and what did she have? A big bunch of nothing. After her initial assessment with Aqua, lessons had been tailored to her stamina and skill.

Good thing too, because that Strike Raid was a fluke. She couldn’t summon it against training dummies, or punching bags, or that particularly annoying tree branch that kept flinging pears her way.

The throbbing in her head didn’t stop either, not as she kept parrying and blocking against training dummies and punching bags.

At least she wasn’t alone. While Aqua and Terra were preparing dinner, Roxas and Ventus remained by her side. Despite their neigh-identical appearances, their voices were immediately identifiable. Olette didn’t have to look up to know which was which. 

(Though, honestly, she doubted even _they_ knew how they were related. 

Ventus had asked once, when they first arrived, and Roxas had given him a big, flippant shrug, “Same as the rest of Sora's heart hotel, I guess.” )

Roxas cheered her on like a proud, loving supporter. Like she used to support Hayner, actually. He encouraged her to keep going. He told her she was doing great. He yelled and cheered, cupping his hands to amplify his voice.

In another world, she must’ve been his biggest Struggle fan. Olette just wished she remembered. All she had was a nagging, guilty feeling that she must’ve– or that her digital self had done so in her name. 

Ventus, on the other hand, offered critique and advice like an old-school professor. He pointed out issues in her battle stance; he encouraged ways to save her magical energy; and he even demonstrated keyblade techniques to show Olette what was in store. Ven’s knowledge and decades of experience was reassuring, but selfishly, Olette preferred Roxas’s blind support.

“You’ve got this!” Ven hollered, his voice full of enthusiasm and encouragement. “Try holding your arm out a little more before you swing!”

“Got it!” Olette rushed forward, extending her arm.

The dummy fell over with a single hit, bouncing back with an unusual spring.

“Yes!” Ven pumped his fists into the air. “Let’s go one more time?”

“She’s _tired,_ Ventus,” Roxas cut in, narrowing his eyes as he approached. “Give her a break and we’ll try again tomorrow.”

Ven’s eyes grew wide as he looked back at Olette. “Oh! Sorry! Yeah, totally, let’s take five.”

“More like five hundred,” Roxas grumbled as he watched Ven head inside.

Olette fell to her knees, finally letting herself catch her breath as she once again held onto her keyblade for support. Her breaths were shallow and rapid, as fast as her heartbeat–

This wasn’t what war felt like. This wasn’t what any semblance of a real fight felt like. Yet her knees, her arms, even her fingers were aching with pain and new callouses. Her entire body was sweating; her face felt red and hot; and her clothes were drenched from sweat and exhaustion.

“Here.” Roxas held out a water bottle. “I know there’s more in the cooler.”

Olette couldn’t even thank him as she seized the bottle and gulped it down. The cool, icy water was relief. Even the last lingering drops could be pressed against her forehead to try and bring her temperature down.

“He really pushed you,” Roxas said, folding his arms. “You should’ve said something earlier.”

“I was okay.” Olette paused, wincing at herself.

She wasn’t okay. She couldn’t say she was okay when every single piece of her had knelt over in pain. She also had to protect Ven from Roxas, even when Roxas was only looking out for her. Ven didn’t know any better. He was only following Aqua’s instructions.

“Honestly…. I’m exhausted,” she admitted, finally rising to her feet and stumbling forward into Roxas’s arms. “I could fall asleep right now, and I wouldn’t regret it one bit.”

“Yeah, that’s how I felt when I was with the Organization.” He held on, slinging her arm across his shoulders to help her walk. “They trained me without thinking about my baseline, or what anyone with zero knowledge or experience can do. Ven wants to help, but he’s a professional. He’s trained longer than any of us have been alive.”

The unspoken judgment in his words said enough.

“Ventus didn’t know,” Olette found herself saying. “You can’t get too mad at him.”

“Well, he should’ve.” Roxas huffed, tightening his grip and murmuring a Gravity spell to lighten her weight. “You’re too tired to keep going!”

“He’s not the Organization! He _didn’t mean to_!”

She had raised her voice more than she had intended– and the shock on Roxas’s face was even louder. He blinked, his hand slipping, before he averted his gaze and pushed on ahead.

“I know that,” he grumbled under his breath. “Trust me, I know. He - he’s naive, and he pushed you, and I swear, he’s not going to do that again if I can help it.”

Olette had the feeling that she wasn’t supposed to hear that.

Once they reached the kitchen and Olette flopped onto the barstools, Aqua and Terra double-healed her with Curaga spells. It didn’t do _that_ much for her fatigue. Sure, the green light felt warm and soothing, like a good cup of warm coffee. The light also stitched up her new wounds and lessened the aches and pains –

“Man, I really pushed you,” Ventus was frowning as he looked up from the salad he was preparing. “I’m so sorry, Olette! I promise it won’t happen again.”

“It had better not.” Aqua frowned, reaching for some salves and applying it to Olette’s new (and now-fading) calluses. “Remember what Master Eraqus used to say? Mastery can take a lifetime. You build it up gradually. Every student goes at her own pace.”

“I know, I know…” Ven sighed, hanging his head. “I got too excited. I’m really sorry.”

 _See?_ Olette wanted to say at Roxas, as she craned her head at him. _He’s not like the Organization at all._

None of that left her lips. She wished she had said something witty, or even something at all– but she fell, face-forward, onto the table and the world went black as both Roxas and Ven called out her name.

From that point, training went far slower.

Aqua oversaw every lesson, leaving nothing to chance. Ventus was relegated to the sidelines as Olette learned her first spells – Fire, Blizzard, Thunder, and Water.

As those bursts of power left her blade, materializing into the element she envisioned, Olette held her weapon steady and watched them decimate her imaginary enemy. The smoking fire, shards of ice, the bolt of thunder, and even the stream of water: they were all summoned by her hand.

That kind of power, frankly, was exhilarating.

“How do you _not_ use that kind of magic all the time?” Olette was asking Roxas on their way home for the night. “It’s - well, it’s magical.”

“I don’t have enough energy to begin with,” Roxas replied, with his ever-present smile. That soft, warm expression had been showing up around her a lot as of late. “Also, I never saw the need. No one else used magic in Twilight Town.”

Olette stopped, taking a moment to envision someone – anyone - whipping out a keyblade and using magic in broad daylight. Then again, Roxas had set an entire kitchen stove (and poor Little Chef's fur) ablaze without a single bit of energy. 

“You're pretty magical on your own, I guess.” she said, allowing herself a grin.

Roxas’s laugh was loud enough to bounce off the castle’s halls.

In-between lessons, Olette would help Aqua around the castle. Terra and Ven dealt with the more arduous and labor-intensive renovations, so Olette found herself in the kitchen more often than not, following Aqua’s recipes to the letter. Most of the ingredients were foreign to Olette: diced lemongrass, pinches of turmeric or saffron, and foreign meats and fish. Yet Aqua sautéed and baked all of these cuisines as if they were second-nature.

Tonight, Aqua was simmering a kind of broth called shoyu for a noodle dish. If the broth smelled this delicious even from Olette’s vantage point, it would certainly taste like heaven on her tongue.

“Where did you learn how to make this?”

“From my old master.” Aqua’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “He used to make this for us all the time when we were younger.”

"He must’ve been a really good cook.”

“The _best_ ,” Aqua agreed, with a genuine laugh as she flicked the stove off. “I can only hope I’m half as good.”

She reached for the handle, flinching as her fingertips met the metal rim, boiling-hot water splashing onto the very edges and the top third of her hand –

“Master Aqua?” Olette rushed over, grasping her teacher’s hand and holding onto it with a light yet firm grip. “Are you okay?”

Warm, green light flowed from her fingers to Aqua’s; the reddish patches of skin faded back to its normal pale hue. Aqua blinked, staring down at her skin, then back at Olette.

“When did you…”

“Did what?” Olette let go, holding up both hands in defense. “I’m sorry! I should’ve grabbed the burn cream or first-aid kit…”

“You healed me. Really, truly healed me.” Aqua knit her brows in contemplation. “I didn’t teach you how, did I?”

Olette shook her head.

In fact, she hadn’t taken any extra initiative to learn. All of her so-called ‘free’ time had been split between her schoolwork and the Bistro. When she wasn’t studying, she was working, and when she wasn’t working, she was catching up on much-needed sleep.

She couldn’t exactly tell the world that she was learning magic, let alone how to wield a Keyblade. Neither were valuable skills on a CV.

Maybe she had recalled how Master Aqua and Terra had cast Cure? Mimicked their actions without a second thought?

“It’s alright,” Aqua said after a few excruciating seconds, reaching for a nearby ladle. “I - I’m really impressed. It must’ve been instinct.”

“A pretty amazing instinct.” Olette turned her body to better reach the soup bowls. “Sure you don’t need burn cream?”

“Very sure.”

As Olette opened the cabinets and pulled the bowls out onto the counter, she couldn’t help overhearing Aqua’s quiet, relieved sigh.

“Looks like Master Eraqus was right, all those years,” Aqua was saying to herself, peering down into the broth, “Every student really _does_ go at her own pace.”

That warm, green light, Olette learned, was the basis of Cure magic.

Unlike elements, which were channeled through the metal of a keyblade, Cure relied on sheer willpower and faith. Its power was innate, relying on a person’s built-in healing process rather than creating an element from thin air.

Best of all, Cure had become second-nature.

Olette cast it every chance she got. Whether it was during dinner, when Ven scalded his hands on hot baking sheets; after practice, when Terra nixed his fingers on some splintering wood; and even for the heck of it, when Roxas had fallen asleep on her shoulder after a training session.

“You shouldn’t do that,” he murmured, not even opening his eyes. “You’re wasting your energy on me.”

“On the contrary, she’s learning. She might as well test her limits here,” Aqua shot back, fighting back a smile as she watched them.

“See?” Olette laughed as she leaned into Roxas’s side, giving him a light nudge with her elbow. “I’m gonna use it all I like.”

He sighed, though his lips were already curling up into a too-familiar smile, “Fine. See if I care.” 

Once both magic and basic swordplay were under Olette’s belt, Aqua surprised her with a present.

“Here,” she said, holding out a keychain in the palm of her hand. “I want you to have this.”

Olette peered down at the small orange, star-shaped charm. Although its base was string, each piece of the star was thin and dyed a vibrant sunset orange. It also looked homemade, much like the charms Terra and Aqua wore under their clothes. It was small, yet cute and unassuming and– Hers. The charm was hers.

“For me? You sure?”

Aqua’s expression softened as she placed it in Olette’s hands, closing them with a gentle touch. “Absolutely. I made it just for you.”

“Thank you.” Olette’s breath was caught in her throat as she peered through her fingers. “It’s really well-made.”

“We call these Wayfinders. As long as you have one, you’ll always be connected to me in both heart and mind.”

Olette couldn’t help teasing, “I think we were already connected. Say, from the literal _second_ you made me your apprentice?”

“True, but it’s nice to have a physical reminder every now and then.”

She had a point. As much as Olette had come to rely on Aqua, she couldn’t always ascertain how her mentor felt. Calling her ‘Master’ Aqua had felt too foreign and weird, and ‘Ms’ Aqua didn’t have the same ring. No title seemed to suit her.

The Wayfinder, in lieu of such respect, would tie them together.

“Thank you,” Olette remembered to say after a moment. “I’ll keep it super safe.”

“Or you can just put it on your keyblade,” Aqua pointed out, tapping the loops at the very end of the charm.

“I can do that?”

“Easily. Charms are what change your keyblade’s appearance and give it additional power, after all.”

Olette summoned her keyblade, attaching the Wayfinder to the very end as she had been instructed. Her blade shimmered, materializing into a long, sturdy yellow-orange blade with the top-three points of a star at the very end. Although the base was a rich gold, the way finder at its end felt stronger - like it was unbreakable.

As she held it up to Aqua, she could feel her mentor’s pride.

“Want to give it a go?” She asked Aqua, jumping back and assuming the offensive stance she had been taught.

Aqua nodded, summoning her own blade. “Ready when you are.”

As their blades struck against each other, Olette felt no pain, nor no adrenaline rushing through her veins. Just the harmony of two blades showing their strength to each other.

How Roxas could give this up without a second thought, she didn’t know. She could twirl and block for the rest of her life, just as she could summon magic and unleash it through her blade and call -

“Fire!”

Aqua dodged, rolling out of its path and lunging towards her. She aimed a slash at Olette’s shoulder.

Olette couldn’t duck in time. Her sleeve ripped in two at the blade’s touch.

“You okay?” Aqua pulled back, rushing over to inspect her shoulders.

“I’m fine. Mastery can take a whole lifetime, remember?”

A wave of surprise washed over Aqua as she stared back at Olette. Then she laughed, leaning forward as she held Olette’s shoulders.

“Right.” Aqua let out a long breath. “I guess it’s time we took you on that training mission after all.”

“Really?” Olette brightened, letting her keyblade disappear. “When do we go?”

“How about this weekend? You won’t have school then, and I know a world where we could practice. I’ll go ahead and write my friend tonight to see if the space is free.”

Olette couldn’t imagine just where Aqua wanted to take her, but an actual off-world training mission! One full of adventure, and one where she could hone all the magic she had learned! A new world - a place with a rising and setting sun, a place with new people and cultures. A place that she could visit and truly see for herself, rather than reading about it in a book. That day couldn't come soon enough. 

“Yes!” She pumped her fists in the air, ignoring both her flushed face and Aqua’s giggles. “I mean, yeah. Yeah. Sounds like a plan.”

Wherever they would go, she just hoped she would have time to savor it all.


	4. questions

Not so long ago, a restless, ambitious Nobody was banished to Castle Oblivion. 

Ostensibly, she was to assist her colleague with memory experiments and determine the true nature of a heart. Her mission was also the most boring, lifeless assignment one could possibly assign another person. Castle Oblivion’s isolated grounds were brown and damp with clumped, dried mud everywhere a person turned. As for the castle itself, its white, sterile surroundings left little in the way of furniture or decor. Wildlife and fauna ceased to exist in or around its borders. 

No one could sneak into Castle Oblivion’s grounds, and sure as hell, no one could leave of their own volition.

Worse still, her colleagues were more like big, giant annoying bugs than emotionless Nobodies. Marluxia gave her odd, eerie vibes of a time long gone; Vexen and Zexion dug too deep into artificial hearts and Replicas; Lexaeus prevented her from doing her job and nosing around the Replicas; and only a merciful God could help Axel find a sense of humor. She may have been the only woman in a sea of men, but boy, were they all idiots. 

A shallower woman might have enjoyed the view, but these men weren't even worth the time. They lacked proper standards, and a sense of humor, and even worse – a good, healthy sense of personal space. She couldn’t engage with such stupidity. 

Instead of poking around their various antics, she had chosen to lounge on the castle’s hard, cold chairs and skim books left behind by previous owners. _Lolita_ , _Huis Clos_ , _L'etranger_ , maybe a little _Justine_ and _Juliette_... 

Of course, none of it could keep her mind off the boring, empty world that she had to call home.

Castle Oblivion has been another world once. These tall, narrow halls tugged at her empty memory. The castle had looked different. The world had been less isolated, more welcoming to outsiders and locals alike. The now-sterile halls had once held paintings, sculptures, and signs of actual life. She just couldn’t remember any of it. 

Anytime she tried to imagine something beyond the blank canvases, her memory snapped. It shut off, freezing her in a loop until something else distracted her.

Maybe the castle was playing a cruel joke on her. Maybe she _hadn't_ been here, so very long ago. Or maybe the old castle was a false memory from the memory witch. 

Part of her job, after all, was to keep that witch snug and tight under its chains. A false memory from such a dire person would've been a long, drawn-out attempt to make her crack and bleed. Such attempts should’ve been rewarded with a song from inside its gilded cage– or maybe a drawing, etched from its blood.

She could imagine the little darling on its knees, begging and pleading for her pitiful life to end then and there. Or ooh, what if that little witch had its hands bleed so that it couldn’t draw anymore, let alone channel that memory power into the sad, wide universe. 

If the Nobody did such a thing, however, she would alert the witch to the success of such a false memory. That she hadn’t truly lost everything when she had lost her heart.

That wouldn’t do.

So she set her books aside and snapped her fingers, embracing the tingle of lightning as it danced on her knuckles. Its power had long since ceased to bother her– but oh, did it remind her of her true strength. Her fighting spirit, so to speak, often drowned by the swirling monologue in her head.

“Bored already?” An irritating voice called out to her as a young man entered the room.

She gritted her teeth, raising her chin in defiance at him. “ _Bored_? Please. I’m on the edge of my seat!” 

The guy had the audacity to laugh. “Says the woman who keeps yelling about how much she hates this place.”

“Like _you_ were any happier about coming here.”

“We’re Nobodies. We can’t feel anything, let alone happiness,” he reminded her, standing across from her and summoning fire into his right hand. It flickered and danced in rhythm to her lightning. In sync with their non-existent heartbeats, even. “Or at least, we’re not supposed to.”

She grew quiet, swallowing a breath as she leaned back in her chair. 

His silence was weird. No, scratch that, her silence was weirder– 

Someone needed to say something, and it sure wouldn’t be her who broke the spell. 

Yet her throat grew dry as she dared to ask, “Do you really want to regain your heart, Axel?”

He shrugged, stroking the fire on his fingertips. “I don’t know. Isn’t that why we all joined the Organization in the first place? To unlock the mysteries of the heart in order to regain ours?”

A long time ago, she might have believed such a lofty goal existed. She also might’ve let everyone else believe she wanted such a ludicrous thing. 

Axel, out of everyone cooped up here, wanted the same thing: to topple over the Organization and to take it for themselves. To kick Xemnas out of his throne and reinstate those who should rightfully rule. 

Even still, _he_ was questioning this? Questioning her and her good, common sense?

“Perhaps,” she settled on saying with a huff, blowing out lightning and fire alike, “You know… Not everyone needs a heart. We’re living proof of that, aren’t we?”

A strange, uneasy look crossed his face as he looked at her – really looked at her, as if he were gazing straight through her empty shell of a person.

“If a soul is truly made of heart, mind, and body… I think we kind of need that heart.”

She laughed, sitting tall, “Need is an exaggeration.” 

“Well, maybe you don’t right now. But someday, even the Savage Nymph would want to feel something again. Be our whole, recompleted selves… and feel, rather than just going through the motions?” 

“Never. Nobodies can’t just _be_ Somebody.” 

They were Nobodies; they were content to lack hearts and to embrace the apathy of it all. As a Nobody, she could draw upon her strength and keep fighting, with zero regard for what came next. She didn't want to be Somebody– or rather, she didn't see the need. If she got that heart, sure. She would throw it away and try again. 

Yet Axel held out a hand, with a devilish smile that suited a whole, Recompleted person more than a Nobody – “Try me.”

She took one look at that extended hand and slapped it back down. 

“As if,” she scoffed, swerving on her heels without a second thought, “I’m perfectly fine as I am!” 

The nerve of him! The raw, sheer nerve of an annoying bug who thought he was better than the new existence he had been given! 

Stomping her heels against the floor, she tried to focus on the empty white noise ahead. On the trials that awaited that pesky keyblade bearer, and on the memory witch who would bring her and Marluxia the key to the Organization’s secrets. 

Yet Axel's voice was louder and clearer than any megaphone. All the way in the hall, far from external influence and annoying bugs, she could still hear him in her head – 

His cocky, booming voice insisting, “If you were perfectly fine, you wouldn’t have argued like that.” 

She slammed a sizzling fist into the wall, letting her lightning shake the very drywall down to the ground, “Shut it!”

What did _he_ know about her heart, anyway?


	5. missions

First thing Saturday morning, Olette, Roxas, and Aqua descended into a world blanketed with snow. 

Olette couldn't remember the last time she had seen snowflakes falling from the sky, let alone feel the chill of cold air rush past her. As they exited the Gummi ship, their clothes too morphed into more suitable winter gear. Her tank top and pants had shifted into a thick, hooded parka, equally thick jeans, and laced up snow boots. Her hands were even covered in orange gloves, just in case!

Her teammates were also dressed for the weather: Roxas had extra white-and-black checkered scarves layered over his peacoat, while Aqua had a long coat that hit her ankles, nearly hiding her own winged boots. The three of them were prepared for a winter hike, though frankly, Olette wished she had packed warmer soups and food in her tote bag. If she had known, she might've prepared better!

Taking one good look at her gear, turning her head back to see her parka hood, Olette grinned. She stole a quick selfie of herself in her new winter gear, posing with two fingers in front of the camera.

“Say cheese, Roxas!” she snapped a photo of him, leaning in close to get just the right shot of them and the mountains. The bright, shining sun behind them was almost blinding in its beauty. 

How could people stare up into it every single day? This bright, shining light that both reflected and illuminated everything in sight? This world’s sun was bigger than the Land of Departure's had ever been – or maybe, the snow was playing tricks on her. Maybe the snow was making it seem that much more grand and purposeful. Either way, Olette wished she could stand here and savor every moment. 

She clicked the camera and stole another selfie.

“If you wanted us in the frame, you could’ve just said so,” Roxas sighed, although the edges of his eyes were crinkling as he leaned in and posed with her. 

Aqua jumped behind them in the next selfie, giving them both really cute bunny ears – and a mischievous grin reserved for very, very few. 

After a satisfactory photo was taken, Aqua turned towards the hills, and the small town nestled at the very bottom of a stone path.

“Let's get this show on the road,” Aqua insisted, with a voice too light to really be upset as she led them down the mountain. “As much as I love the snow, we can't afford to be here all day.”

“Oh! Right,” Olette nodded, sharing an amused smile with Roxas before they both bounded after her. “What is this world called, anyway?” 

Aqua’s smile only grew wider– “Arendelle.” 

Arendelle – the town at the foot of the hill by an ice-covered lake – was a lot cozier than Olette had imagined. Townspeople had time to slow down and talk to their neighbors. They gathered in groups near restaurants and booths, outside local taverns (even at this hour), and by the ice-covered lake. Kids were out ice skating near the edges, and more than a few had decided to make snowmen along the streets. 

It was a beautiful, comforting place. It also happened to be _freezing_ , even with her parka and gloves. Olette shivered, falling back and listening to Aqua's and Roxas's conversation ahead of her. They had stopped briefly to stock up on supplies: potions, ethers, elixirs, maybe a few Tents for the road. Aqua had stopped to inspect a few rosettes and other accessories to boost Olette's resistance, while Roxas hung back to talk to the shopkeepers. 

This felt a whole world away from her old life with Hayner and Pence. The three of them could've never imagined adventuring in the mountains, let alone training with someone like Aqua. 

Roxas seemed used to the travel. He could bargain for cheaper prices like it was second-nature, while Aqua could discern a great accessory with a single look of her eye. Olette had that, sometimes, when it came to the kitchen. If they were buying celery or spices like saffron and turmeric, maybe she would've been of more use. With her limited lessons, though, she had to watch and learn.

“– sleigh rented?”

Aqua nodded. “Yeah, we’ve got it for the whole day.” 

Roxas hummed in satisfaction.

Olette should have listened more closely; she may have to bargain with off-world shopkeepers in her own future. But for now, she was content to sneak a few pictures for Hayner, Pence, and Xion, just to prove that she was here. That she was on an adventure of her own, even if it wasn't one she had chosen for herself. 

Aqua was also saying, behind a few shelves of equipment, “–we could’ve stayed back at the Land of Departure, but missions have always been off-world. I figure, Arendelle’s a pretty safe place to apply everything she’s learned.”

“Yeah, up until an avalanche starts again,” Roxas groaned, rubbing his temples with his gloved hands. “Pretty sure that's how Sora got stuck in a labyrinth that one time.”

“China would’ve had the same problem. At least here, we’ve got Queen Elsa to help us.”

“Olette has _us_ to help her. Isn't that enough?”

Aqua blinked, setting down her accessories to give him a better look. Her expression grew sympathetic as she leaned forward and rested a hand on his shoulder, “She’s always had us. It'll be okay, Roxas. I know she'll do great today.”

Olette tried to ignore them, but she could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks. They were that worried about her?

He scoffed, “Did you doubt that for even a second?”

“Of course not. But you wanted to see her in action, right?” Aqua’s smile was all-knowing, “That’s why you were especially insistent on coming.”

“Well! I'm glad he could make it today,” Olette jumped in, deciding to make her presence known as she approached them. She had to ignore her own embarrassment as she grinned back at Roxas, “Thanks for taking us here.”

Roxas coughed, turning his body away from her. “It was part of our deal. I would’ve been here regardless.” His face was turning just as red as hers– weird. “By the way, weren’t Terra and Ven supposed to join us?”

“They wanted to finish up some last-minute repairs back home. A Thunder spell broke some of the drywall a while back, I think.” Aqua shrugged, purchasing a rather large pile of potions, elixirs, and tents from the shopkeeper. “If we really need them today, we’ll give them a call.”

How unusually practical of them. Olette hadn’t grown as close to Terra and Ventus while she was training under Aqua, but Terra, Aqua, and Ven were inseparable. Wherever one went, the others usually followed. They were like the Three Musketeers, or maybe the Three Amigos: all for one, and one for all.

Roxas raised an eyebrow at Olette, mouthing, “I'm pretty sure that drywall was broken for a while.”

“A _lot_ of that castle has been broken for a while,” she reminded him. 

As beautiful as the Land of Departure was, its grounds were in varying states of disrepair. Terra must’ve seen the mission as the perfect time to redo the drywall. While he was at it, he would also probably renovate their old gas stove, or maybe give the training dummies a fresh coat of paint…

She could imagine a whole laundry list of items, and she didn’t even live there!

Instead of focusing on Terra’s pragmatic change of heart, she pulled out her phone again. “One last selfie for the road?” 

Roxas gave her an exaggerated groan before leaning in, giving the camera an awkward smile. Aqua laughed behind them, leaning just out of frame as Olette snapped another shot. 

“There,” she giggled, giving them both a thumbs-up. “ _Now_ we can begin.”

One bright side of Arendelle’s mountainous terrain: they had plenty of rental sleighs. Aqua steered the sleigh with a practiced ease, letting Olette and Roxas sit behind her and enjoy the view. 

They raced across the mountain, chill hitting their bones at what must’ve been tens of miles per hour. Olette couldn’t help laughing as she clutched her side of the sleigh, feeling the cold even through her wool mittens.

She scooted closer to Roxas. “You okay?”

“More than you seem to be, with all the selfies you’re taking,” he shot back with an amused laugh. “Remember, this’ll be worse than anything you faced in the Land of Departure.”

“Hey! Selfies are great, and also - you don’t have to tell me twice.”

The blankets of snow, refreshing itself with new snowflakes, showed her as much. Olette couldn’t remember the last time she had seen such snow back home (if she had at all). The weather in Twilight Town had always been fairly moderate – hot enough in summer for the beach, but never truly cold enough for snow to stick. 

An inch or two of snow, after all, was nowhere close to Arendelle’s giant snow quilt. Their sleigh marks were continuously overturned by fresh snow and the wind kept nipping at their scarves and hats; and the harsh light of the sun only reminded them of how precarious this weather was. 

The air seemed harder to breathe, too – but that must’ve been gravity at work, given the altitude of the mountains, rather than anything related to the snow. Olette sucked in a breath, leaning on Roxas and trying to ignore the sudden popping in her ears. 

“Ears popping?” He asked, with what was only world-weary experience as he offered her a hard caramel candy. 

Olette nodded, accepting the treat and sucking on it. 

The candy wasn’t ideal (then again, what was?) - but he was right. The mere act of eating candy slowed her ears down, letting her focus on the weather and not the butterflies in her stomach. 

The sleigh stopped at the top of the mountain in front of a grand palace, crafted entirely of ice.

A young woman rushed to greet them at the foot of the stairs. Despite the cold nipping at them all, her pale hair was loose, and she wore a thin, long gown that trailed behind her. 

She waved at them with a timid, yet excited, smile, “Aqua? Olette?”

“Queen Elsa,” Aqua called in turn, climbing off the sleigh to hug her. “It’s so good to finally meet you in-person.”

“Likewise.” Elsa returned the hug, letting go to shake Olette’s hand. “Promise me that you’ll at least stay long enough for dinner? I can’t be a proper host up here, given that it’s all made of ice.” 

“We’ll try,” Aqua countered.

“Oh, and you must be Roxas.” Elsa’s smile widened as she held out her hand to greet him. “Aqua’s written quite a bit about you.”

Roxas shot Aqua an amused smile as he shook Elsa’s hand. “You have?”

Aqua insisted, “Only about your powers and how they’ve been helpful with our training–”

“And how much Olette relies on him,” Elsa finished, ignoring Olette’s sudden burning cheeks. “It was actually pretty sweet.”

“Huh.” Roxas’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, even as he regarded Elsa and Aqua with new understanding. “So you do care.”

“Of course I do.” Aqua mirrored his expression, leaning back with her hands behind her back. “Olette may be my apprentice and my favorite student, but you’re also a dear friend.”

Olette would’ve never imagined such a sentiment spoken out loud. Behind closed doors, maybe. Over dinner, after a couple of glasses of wine, probably. In clear daylight, with a beaming Queen and flushed Roxas? Impossible.

Yet Roxas’s expression was too soft and loving for Olette to mistake it for anything else. 

He looked at Olette, then back Aqua before nodding. “Yeah. Likewise, Aqua.”

Elsa cleared her throat. “We should... probably get her training started, right?”

“Right.” Olette snapped to attention, ignoring her anxious nerves. “Roxas, are you coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He rushed off the sleigh, reaching for her hand as they ascended the stairs and into Elsa’s Ice Palace.

Elsa and Aqua had long since gone ahead, walking through the halls at a comfortable pace. Despite this, their footsteps and voices echoed through the hall as old friends caught up on everything and anything.

“—pages, Aqua,” Elsa was giggling. “You sent me _whole pages_ about how romantic they are. I have to say, I didn’t believe it until I saw it for myself.” 

“Right?” Aqua was laughing too, “I thought they were pretty cute.”

“It didn’t slow down training at all?”

“On the contrary, I think his presence helped her find her bearings.”

Their voices drifted as they walked ahead, but the laughter and merriment in their step gave Olette little relief. 

Roxas squeezed Olette’s hand a little tighter. “You okay?”

“Of course.” Olette couldn’t help looking up at Roxas, at how his poor, thick scarf couldn’t hide the unease on his face. “People talked like this all the time back home. Why would it be any different now?”

“Because it’s your _teacher_ and a _queen_? Who should know better?”

“They just think it’s romantic. They’ll get over it soon,” Olette had to point out, with a slight huff.

With that, she hastened her pace, taking care to dig her heels in deep with each step. Roxas was overthinking this, really; the less attention you gave gossip, the quicker people moved onto something new.

She wasn’t even dating Roxas! The others just mistook their budding friendship for something more. Understandable, too, if the Queen only had Aqua’s lengthy letters upon which to base her judgment. Hadn’t Olette done the same, when Kairi landed on her doorstep and explained her story to the gang?

(How was Kairi doing, now that Olette was thinking about it? She, Sora, and Riku were on a pretty long journey, weren’t they?)

As she glanced over her shoulder, at a stunned, rigid Roxas behind her, Olette couldn’t help wondering if she had maybe, just maybe, put too little weight into her mentors’ opinions. She quickened her step, taking care to tread over ice with the proper fragility it deserved.

Elsa’s ice was less like thin sheets, thankfully, and more like hardened slabs of marble: rigid, firm, and unable to budge within the next century. Everyone’s footsteps echoed through the halls, with only cool light illuminating each corridor.

“–practice. I’ve had a long time to get it right,” Elsa was telling Aqua, as the two turned a corner and ascended another, shorter flight of stairs.

“Well, it looks amazing,” Aqua said, taking a moment to admire the statues and vases scattered around the hall.

Olette had to agree as she matched their pace, “I don’t think I would’ve ever imagined something so beautiful.”

“Aw, thanks.” Elsa shot Olette a grateful, if flushed, smile. “Anna suggested the general architecture and sculptures - I just followed her instructions.”

“You both have good taste, then.” Olette would have to ask about this Anna later, whoever she was. “Her for drawing it all, and you for making it real.” 

As they continued walking, she shot another glance towards Roxas. He was gazing at the walls and sculptures, lost in deep, contemplative thought. Probably about what she had said earlier. Maybe she should apologize…

“My sister has an amazing eye for interior design,” Elsa said, drawing Olette out of her thoughts. “I’m really lucky to have her.”

“She probably feels the same.” The words tumbled out of Olette’s lips before she could think twice, “I mean, she must’ve spent a lot of time and energy drafting up how this entire place would look.”

The exterior was gorgeous on its own, with ornate columns and pillars supporting the lofty stairs, and the current hall was sleek yet ornate. Elsa must’ve practiced for a long time to perfect each detail and ensure its precise edges. 

As sunlight hit the decorative vases and sculptures, they shone like diamonds. It was gorgeous - naturally, extraordinarily gorgeous. Olette couldn’t have imagined that such a building would’ve sprung from bare ice, crafted by Elsa’s hands alone. In a way, the palace itself was a symbol of love.

“Thanks.” Elsa blushed, slowing her pace down. “That really means a lot.”

“Well, we’re honored that you could help her out,” Aqua pointed out. “We don’t usually get to travel and hone a student’s skills _before_ a crisis emerges.”

“Anything for a friend,” Elsa replied, her expression softening. “I’m just glad you trusted me to run a practice mission.”

They must’ve gone a long way back, Olette realized. They might’ve never met in person before, but their hearts had long since been connected through pen and paper.

“Of course. I figured this would be a safe enough place. We’re the only ones around for miles, and any collateral damage could be easily repaired.”

“For a certain definition of easy, yes,” Elsa smirked.

“Wait…” Olette paused, realizing just what Aqua meant by ‘only ones,’ “Did you bribe Terra and Ven into staying home?”

Aqua’a laugh was a nervous one. “I wouldn’t say _bribe_ so much… maybe promising them some of your cake once we were done?”

Roxas snorted, “You didn’t.” 

“Unfortunately, I did.” 

“So, bribe. I don’t mind.” Olette flexed her arm, “It’ll be another chance for us to show off our baking skills.”

Elsa’s eyes lit up, “Oh, you both bake? You have to use my kitchen later. I insist.”

“The royal kitchen?”

“What else?” Elsa stared for a second too long, before she turned her body back towards the end of the halls. She nervously twiddled her thumbs, peering down at them, “Or um – is that not something I should’ve offered?”

“Oh, no! No, it’s fine that you offered. Amazing, even,” Olette had to insist, craning her head to better look at Elsa. “I’m just surprised. That was _really_ nice of you.”

Elsa ignored the flush in her cheeks as she pushed ahead. She coughed, “I. I uh, I’m not sure if it’s nice, but you’re - you’re welcome anytime, alright?”

“Thank you.” Olette figured that saying anymore would be pushing it. “I look forward to giving it a shot.”

Once they reached the top of the palace, Elsa led them into an empty foyer. Save for half a floating heart of ice, the room was devoid of all decor. As the four stepped inside, the door shut behind them. 

“So the terms of this mission are simple.” Elsa clasped her hands together, looking over at Roxas for guidance. “You need to retrieve the other half of this sculpture. It’s hidden somewhere in this palace, and we won’t be able to leave until it’s complete.”

Roxas added, “Plus, we’re not the only ones looking for this sculpture. We’ll have to fight off any Nobodies looking to claim it as their own.”

Olette raised an eyebrow at him, “Nobodies? Those weird noodle-y guys?”

Aqua stifled a laugh behind her hand, right as Roxas’s cheeks and ears burned a bright red. 

“One and the same, from what I understand,” Elsa answered, blinking back genuine surprise. 

Roxas coughed. “Anyway! Queen Elsa and I will help you find the missing heart, while Aqua hangs back here.”

“I need to time you,” Aqua explained, holding up a stopwatch. “Mission begins… now. We’re estimating that you’ll need 15 minutes to find the heart and bring it back. Hopefully a lot less.”

She unlocked the door with her Keyblade, pushing everyone out through a strong burst of Aeroga magic. The doors locked behind them; the clicking mechanism echoed through the halls. 

“Well.” Olette nodded towards her companions. “Let’s get going.” 

Missions sounded so much cooler than they actually were. Movies and books never talked about how _long_ they lasted. Characters looked cool as they walked down the hall, with their heads held high and weapons in prominent display, but those corridors stretched out too far. 

In hindsight, Anna’s garish decorations – and Elsa’s skill in recreating them – only served to better hide the heart sculpture. Every giant vase and icicle tree could have hidden that broken piece! (Then again, maybe that was the whole point behind Anna’s snowflake designs.)

Worse, the white, hooded noodle-y guys from summer break were now swarming around, gliding and twirling and dancing between the rails and doors. They spun each other in endless circles. The palace might as well have been their own personal ice arena. 

Olette grimaced. “I’m gonna hate this.” 

“What, fighting them?” Roxas blinked back at her. “They’re just Dusks.” 

“I mean…” Olette shot him a confused look. “Dusks or not, they’re still Nobodies. Not like you or Xion, but… Nobodies. The guys that haunted the old mansion? The ones that popped up all over town and scared the crap outta everyone?” 

As a former keyblade bearer, Roxas should’ve known that Nobodies were one of the keyblade bearers’ sworn enemies. 

Heartless, Nobodies, and the Unversed. The terrible triad of monsters. Any keyblade wielder worth their mettle would eventually go up against them, and right now - Olette was facing her reckoning. Sure, it was only practice, with Elsa’s magic animating fake Nobodies out of snow and ice. Snow-Nobodies. Snobodies? 

Whatever they were, it felt too real. 

Elsa frowned, summoning pockets of ice in her hands, “So they caused a lot of trouble?” 

“In more ways than one, yeah,” Olette said with a sigh, swerving on her heel to avoid an incoming group. “But we met Roxas through them, so they’re not all that bad.” 

A slow blush rose across Roxas’s cheeks. He coughed, “Didn’t you just say you hated them?”

“I hate how much trouble they cause.” She gave him a pointed, if also amused, look. “I don’t hate them as a whole, necessarily.” 

If she did, she would have to hate Roxas too. The full story of Roxas’s origins had never quite filtered down to Olette, Hayner, and Pence. Bits and pieces had, of course, like Roxas’s and Xion’s lack of a heart, their time with Organization XIII, and their return through friendships.

The real story, though, would have to wait for another time – and preferably, Roxas himself would be the one to tell her.

She pulled her party into a side room and waited for the group of fake Nobodies to pass. Once those thundering, swift footsteps rushed past, she moved forward again. 

Keyblades drew trouble like moths to a flame, but Olette wasn’t going to instigate a battle if she could help it. The fake-Nobodies weren’t attacking her or Roxas on sight. They had bigger goals in mind. She was going to make peace with those bigger goals, whatever they were. 

She had bigger fish to try, like putting those icicle hearts back together. The clock was ticking, and Master Aqua didn’t seem to care how many opponents she knocked out. 

The best course of action would be to scour the palace. To find a floor plan and clear each room, one by one, until the missing sculpture revealed itself. 

Given Elsa’s skill in architecture, the palace’s halls stretched out further than the eye could see. Olette would have to think fast– run smart, not hard. Another group of fake-Nobodies spun around her, tempting her to dance with them. 

She wasn’t going to fall for that today. 

She rolled around them, heading into another room. This area of the palace had thin, unstable floors and bonzai-styled trees illuminating every nook and cranny. As Nobodies rushed in, breaking one of the palace’s thinner walls, Olette pressed her back up against the wall. 

The room itself wasn’t very big, with a circle behind her that seemed to descend into the lower caverns of the mountain itself. If she leaned too far back, she might fall – no, she _would_ fall. 

She had to steady herself with her blade and stand up–

Roxas jumped in front of her. He blocked with his Keyblade and yelled, “Firaga!” 

A roar of a flame burst from his blade, incinerating Nobodies and trees alike and engulfing them all into puddles of water. The nearest tree shook from the force, falling between Roxas, Queen Elsa, and Olette.

Olette jumped, and oh - she was falling. 

“Are you okay?” Roxas yelled, right as the Nobodies disappeared into bits of light. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Olette called back as she landed on her own two feet, craning her head to better see the debris above. 

The tree had wedged itself pretty good between the three, creating a barrier that Olette’s flames couldn’t penetrate. Between that and her not-so-graceful descent onto the floor below, she wasn’t sure when she would reunite with them.

“Try and see if you can find the elevator in the next room,” Queen Elsa added, with a whoosh of ice behind her as she tried to repair the puddles– “We’ll catch up with you soon!” 

“ _Really_ soon,” Roxas promised, with a solemnity in his voice that Olette rarely heard. 

Olette believed him. This wasn’t the worst set-up, all things considered. This lower floor might be where the pesky ice sculpture was hiding; after all, the last floors were usually where the treasures were hidden in all of those old Mickey games. She might as well see if reality was anything like a video game.

As she turned the corner, however, and entered a long, tall, circular room with a singular ice pillar, the ceiling shattered upon her. 

Ice everywhere blew with a sudden gust of wind, blowing Olette back towards the open entrance. She stood firm, digging her heels into the hardened ice.

Someone had fallen down with the ceiling – Roxas, maybe? Or the Queen? 

Except no, Queen Elsa had alluded to an elevator, and this stranger was rising to their feet and approaching Olette.

Olette summoned her blade without thinking, holding it up in a defensive stance. 

“Oh?” A young woman stood before Olette, dressed in a thin, hooded gray and maroon shirt, tight black pants, and equally-black combat boots None of it seemed suitable for the chill, and she was shivering, even as she sneered at Olette’s very presence. “I didn’t think I'd have company.”

“Neither did I.”

The woman laughed, brushing back snow from her antennae-like hair, “And who might you be?”

Olette tightened her grip on her keyblade and raised her chin at the woman, “Olette.”

The woman scoffed. “Never heard of you. Glad to see we’re _still_ handing out keyblades like candy–”

Lightning sizzled in the woman’s right hand, and a keyblade emerged between her fingers, with a lighting bolt keychain hanging off the handle. She held it out towards Olette, closing the distance so the tip of the blade was mere inches from Olette’s very heart.

Olette shuddered, recoiling and pressing her back against the wall.

“Now, baby bird,” the woman began, with a smile devoid of all emotion and light, “Let’s see if you’ve actually earned yours.”


	6. thunderstorms

So much for an easy mission.

Olette sucked in a breath as she stared down at the woman’s keyblade. If Olette countered, then she would initiate a fight – and Master Aqua wouldn’t factor that into the clock. Time would run out. Olette would lose. Per Roxas's stipulations, Olette would also give up the Keyblade and return to her old life.

No keyblade, no magic, no gummi ship, and worst of all, no mentor in whom she could confide. At the time, those conditions had seemed so easy to abide by. Then again, she hadn't known Master Aqua's heart, or how compassionate and kind Terra and Ven would be. She hadn't known just how often Roxas would ferry her to the Land of Departure, or how she hungered to learn more healing magic. Hindsight would always be far clearer than the present.

Olette couldn’t let her new life (her new _magic_ ) disappear – not yet, not when she had so much to prove.

She had to move. She had to give herself room to breathe, and to fight. So she slid under the woman's keyblade, throwing up an opaque, hexagon-shaped shield to protect her. Once the woman had been thrown off her rhythm, Olette turned to run.

Neither Queen Elsa nor Roxas had mentioned fighting another person. Nobodies, yes. Random people crashing through the ceiling and demanding a fight, not so much.

“Aw, running already?” The woman cooed, jumping into the air to strike. “Not very heroic of you!”

Olette gritted her teeth, extending her arm and brandishing her keyblade, “I’m being practical!”

The woman swung. Olette struck back. Blade hit blade, neither gaining nor losing ground– every swing, every sudden movement had been predicted and accounted for. Olette jumped back, rolling back her shoulders before she swung again.

Why the heck was this woman so angry? What had Arendelle even done to her? Actually, less questions, more fighting.

This woman slashed. She snarled. She wasn’t taking no for an answer, and Olette couldn’t even hear herself think among the crackle of thunder and the sudden bursts of steam from the melting ice. Frozen vases were melting into the walls; pillars were tilting and collapsing to the floor; and the floor? Well, it was wobbling again from the sudden heat.

Standing firm, Olette dug into her heels and shifted her body weight to the more solid pieces of ice. She extended her keyblade, throwing up a protective barrier on both sides. The woman’s next swing bounced back.

Olette countered with an upper slash, flinging her blade mere inches from the woman’s face.

“Now that’s more like it!” The woman’s laugh was hollow and empty. “Come and get me!” 

Olette stepped back, ducking swipe after swipe. She bent backwards, scooping her back towards the hall.

Lightning bounced off the woman’s blade as she aimed it at the ceiling– and the paper-thin, shaking chandelier above. “Thundaga!”

Yellow light shot from her blade and shattered more of the ice above them. The ceiling was ground into tiny, sparkling powdered bits of ice, cracking and tumbling onto the floor below. The air grew even colder. Olette could now feel her arms tingling, and they were covered in several layers.

Olette crouched down and threw up another barrier, “Reflera!”

Lightning bounced off her barrier, sizzling all around but never quite touching Olette or the ground. Olette gritted her teeth and renewed the barrier.

If she kept running into the halls in search of a flight of stairs, the woman would give chase. For whatever reason, this woman wanted to test Olette’s merit and see if she was worthy of her ‘candy.’

She wasn’t part of Aqua’s mission. She also wasn’t on Roxas’s or Queen Elsa’s radar – though the loud roar of thunder might help them hurry up their search. Larxene’s mastery of magic was far, far beyond what Olette could hope to achieve. 

The yellow glow would lead them back to her. Olette could only hope that this light continued to shine past the new rubble and debris Larxene was creating in her wake. 

They would find her soon enough. She had to believe in them, just as they had believed in her ability to find them. Until then, she had to hang on tight and channel all her energy into this renewing barrier. Sometimes the best offense, Ventus used to say like an ancient professor, was a solid defense.

“Who are you, anyway?” Olette screamed over the thunder. “What do you want with me?”

Another haughty laugh escaped the woman’s lips as she stepped onto the barrier, cracking it with the heel of her boots.

“My name’s _Larxene_ ,” she hissed, snapping her fingers to cease the lightning. “Do you know what I do to annoying baby birds who won’t take a hint? I silence them.”

Olette flinched, tapping the edge of her weapon to extend her barrier’s radius. It expanded, spreading far beyond her and her keyblade.

Larxene wobbled, holding out both arms to regain her footing. “Cute, but you can’t keep this up forever.”

“You haven’t exactly _explained_ anything, Larxene! If you ask me, you’re the rude one!” 

“ _You’re_ the reason I woke up in this stupid world!” Larxene shot back, swinging her blade wildly in the air. “I got Recompleted thanks to you whiny brats, and where do I end up? In some world I barely remember with powers I didn’t ask for, and now an annoying bird who won’t shut up and fight me!” 

“Recom...pleted…?”

Olette blinked, giving Larxene another once-over. She didn’t know what that meant. In the dictionary sense, sure. Recompletion was kintsugi: taking pieces of broken pottery and gluing them back together into something stronger and even more beautiful. 

Theoretically, people didn’t get glued back together with gold paint. Then again, Master Aqua and Roxas had been rather slow to explain everything to her. For all she knew, ‘Recompletion’ was a regular, everyday event, just like training with a Keyblade or spamming a barrier into the universe every thirty seconds. 

“Really?” Larxene paused, frowning at her. “They just hand you a blade and tell you to have fun or something?” 

“I know magic! Obviously.” Olette mirrored Larxene’s frown as she rolled back her shoulders. Truthfully, she hadn’t been _as_ quick to pick up techniques as Master Aqua would’ve liked. “The rest has been on a need-to-know basis.”

“Wow.” Larxene whistled, folding her arms and leaning on Olette’s barrier. “And I thought _Sora_ was pretty slow.” 

Ignoring that particularly nasty comment about poor Sora, Olette repeated, “So…. what does it mean?”

Larxene’s shoulders deflated as she scrutinized Olette. “It _means_ you brats killed both my Heartless and Nobody, and rather than fade into the darkness or whatever, I became whole again. Like an actual stupid, real human being.” 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” The words slipped out of Olette’s lips faster than she could take them back. She froze, and with her shock, so too did her opaque barrier.

She had exposed herself to the cold and the thunder and Larxene could–

Larxene glared at her, taking two giant steps towards Olette. Her foul aura could’ve killed a lesser woman – and frankly, Olette wasn’t willing to take her chances. In a real, bonafide battle, Olette wouldn’t last more than thirty seconds. Both women knew it, too. 

As she hastily rose to her feet, Olette held up her keyblade with both hands, as one might a long, thin shield. 

“Oh, please,” Larxene sighed. Her hand slipped past the Keyblade, past Olette’s defenses, and reached to grip the orange Wayfinder hanging off the edge of her weapon. “Hearts are stupid. They’re heavy, loud, and not to mention, a giant pain in my chest.” 

The phrase was ‘pain in my neck,’ but Olette couldn’t find the strength to argue. Not when they were this close; not when Larxene was threatening to break Aqua’s present with a single touch. Not when the Wayfinder was so much more precious than an awkward turn of phrase.

“They’re supposed to be loud,” Olette found herself saying, hearing her own heartbeat echo in her ears as Larxene flipped the Wayfinder over. “That’s how you know you’re still alive.”

Larxene’s voice grew soft and almost inaudible, “In that case, I want a refund.”

Under the patchy, shiny icicle lights, the Wayfinder almost seemed to glow. Its light bounced off what remained of the walls and ceiling, enveloping the entire space in an eternal sunset. The palace was filled with color. 

It was filled with _home_.

“You know what, baby bird?” Larxene’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she reached for the hilt of Olette’s keyblade and turned it towards her own chest. “Let’s call it a draw. You can keep your little weapon for another day–”

“Wait, no!” Olette seized her weapon, pulling it back towards her and as far away from Larxene’s heart as she could manage. 

Before her first lesson with Master Aqua, Roxas had imparted one dangerous truth. Keyblades unlocked anything they touched: locks, primarily, but human hearts and worlds too. If she unlocked a human heart, she would split that being into two– a Heartless and a Nobody. The two disparate parts of a whole, doomed to wander the universe until both faded away.

Larxene didn’t deserve that fate. No one deserved that. Worse, Larxene seemed to believe she _wanted_ that kind of hurt and suffering in her bones. The lack of emotion on her face, the defeat in her posture, and even the quiet and solemnity in her voice said that much. In an eternally-white palace, such gloom could have been masked. Under the glow of the Wayfinder, it was raw and real – like the palace crumbling all around their feet. 

Olette couldn’t imagine what sorts of adventures had led her down that dark, murky path, but she couldn’t let Larxene wander down it much further. 

In this moment, in this stretch of time, Larxene was like Master Aqua – and neither of them should have to shoulder this burden alone. Not back then, and certainly not now. 

“I wanted this,” Larxene almost assured her, with a smile that almost seemed genuine, “So don’t let it worry your little head–”

“Olette!” Roxas was screaming from the right, from the depths of the nearby hallway. His voice grew breathless with his thundering footsteps and the slash of his keyblade, “Olette, are you okay?” 

“We’re on our way!” Master Aqua added with a breathless voice, “Hang on just a little longer, okay?”

“Oh, good, the cavalry's arrived.” Larxene scowled at the Wayfinder, her brow furrowing at its very existence, “Figures _he_ would be here too.” 

So Larxene knew Roxas too– the least surprising thing about today, really.

Olette couldn’t wait for them any longer. She pulled her Keyblade back, intent on letting it disappear into the ether until she needed to use it again. She twisted the key and pulled, holding onto it for dear life. 

It clicked. Her Keyblade actually clicked as it pushed through the invisible bolts of Larxene’s soul. 

The sound echoed through the room and what remained of their precarious ground seemed to shake beneath their feet as Olette’s eyes met Larxene’s. 

Then the foundation gave way, and Olette could only feel the chill of the wind nipping at her as the world began to spin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to Jay for editing and general beta'ing of this chapter ♥ It's been a very long time coming!


	7. memories

Olette was falling again.

She wasn’t expecting to have time to _dwell_ on her fall. Usually, she would jump and gravity would pull her down. Gravity loved her, regardless of the world: it loved her in Twilight Town, in the Land of Departure, and in Arendelle.

This time, however, it bypassed her completely.

She could actually feel the rush of air propelling her up and the biting cold blowing her hair behind her. She could see an eternal, endless black horizon surrounding her, with only a single shining platform below.

The dotted lights from the ground almost blinded her with their intensity, as if beckoning towards her– _Come. There’s so much to do._

She didn’t have to be told twice. She stretched out her arms and steered herself towards the platform. From a distance, those dots were blips on a radar; single, solitary guideposts. Up close, those bright, guiding lights were broken shards of glass radiating from a single cracked center, illuminating a single, solitary person.

Olette sucked in a breath, bracing herself for impact. Any sudden movement would shatter this floor – and send her and the person below toppling to the ground. Most of the platform was painted with a portrait of Larxene. Her clothes shifted between an oversized black cloak and her current outfit, never quite settling on one look. Cloak, jeans, cloak, jeans; the shift was instantaneous and continuous. The people beside her, however, remained constant.

A pink-haired man with roses, Lea with his old black cloak draped on his shoulders, and Queen Elsa were inset behind her. At least, Olette thought the last one was Queen Elsa– her face had cracked into an imitation of a smile, sliding into a mosaic rather than a straight-up portrait.

“Don’t you dare–” Larxene was snarling.

Olette didn’t have time to argue. Gravity tugged at her, pulling her down towards Larxene, towards the broken, shifting platform–

She collided with Larxene, and they both toppled to the ground. The platform shook, and they rolled to the edges of the broken glass window.

Using her forearms to prop herself up, Olette rose to her feet. No shards of glass; no sudden, extra new cracks in the floor’s surface. She and Larxene would survive to see another day.

She approached Larxene – at the woman lying on the ground and staring up at her own empty, black horizon – and sat down beside her. The platform shone as it shifted again and again. Larxene, Larxene in one of those stupid black cloaks, and Larxene again.

“It’s kind of blinding,” she murmured, using her hand to shield her from the light.

_Are you afraid?_ , a voice echoed in the back of her head.

Olette frowned. In any other circumstance, she might have been. The empty, vast darkness stretched out as far as her eye could see. The floor beneath her was unstable and would cave in upon them any moment. She sure wasn’t in Arendelle anymore – or anywhere close to human civilization.

The mission would have ended by now. Olette could kiss her keyblade good-bye (she could kiss her new bond with Roxas and Aqua goodbye). 

Yet she wasn’t afraid. She had been here, maybe, once before. Or she had been here in a dream –

Was any of this real? Or not?

“I assure you, baby bird,” Larxene said with a huff, kicking her feet up as she sat down, “This is as real as you and me.”

Well, that was one question answered.

Olette sat up straighter as she stole a glance at the other woman. Larxene had leaned back, with both feet stretched out towards the edge of the platform. No weapons, no lightning in sight. Just the two of them, the endless void, and a broken floor that could collapse at any given moment.

She had all the reason in the world to fear Larxene, and even more reason to question her reality. Olette _should_ have asked about her surroundings, and about the weird calm that had washed over the other woman. About how Roxas and Aqua couldn’t reach them, wherever (whenever?) they were.

_We call these spaces ‘Stations of the Heart_ , the mysterious voice continued. _Between mind and heart, between worlds, between the physical and metaphorical. Elrena’s–_

“I don’t go by that name anymore.” Larxene frowned, shifting her weight and pulling both legs up under her. “And if you were smart, you would call me Larxene like everyone else.”

So Larxene could hear that voice too, whoever was speaking to them in this dark, foreboding space.

_You regained your heart_ , the voice reminded her and Olette. _I cannot call you by an identity that is no longer yours._

Olette shot Larxene an inquisitive look. Larxene glared in return, holding up a solitary middle finger in defiance.

A long story behind that name, Olette was guessing. As much as she wanted to hear the circumstances surrounding such a choice, she also had to understand their current situation. She couldn’t tell how much longer the glass would support them, let alone just what else existed beyond the horizon. 

“Well, setting that aside for the time being…” Olette stood tall, steadying herself as she dusted off her parka. “This is… between a world?”

Larxene snorted. “Dunno. Haven’t been here before.”

The station shook beneath them. Olette held out her arms to steady herself and rock with the shaking, unsteady ground. More cracks appeared, spreading between the portraits.

“I’m pretty sure you have. Or you have and don’t remember it,” Olette murmured.

After all, Larxene’s portrait was resting beneath their feet. Glass-Larxene’s hands were cracking and splintering; her electrified knives jolted, cracking between grip and metal blade.

Larxene scowled as she too rose to her feet. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Lightning sizzled from Larxene’s hands, dancing across the edge of her fingertips. “Aren’t you a sassy one?”

The odds of an actual fight were high. Larxene’s arms were itching to release that energy into the air and shock Olette into silence. Any second now, rolling thunder would sound and electrocute every fiber, every atom of Olette’s being. 

A smarter woman would have risen to her feet and demanded a battle. An even smarter woman would’ve seized the upper hand by snatching Larxene’s throwing knives first.

A stupider woman would have turned towards the very edge of the platform, with both hands behind her back, and grinned back at Larxene. “Oh, I _know_ I’m sassy.”

“You’re not going to even try?” Larxene scoffed, “And here I thought Keyblade wielders _loved_ a good fight.”

“Uh, not me.” Olette laughed, shaking her head with fond affection. “I would rather cook. Or watch a good movie, or hang out with my friends…” 

Or spar with Ventus and Terra because she preferred their company to their actual fighting skills. Or heal her teacher with Cure magic. Or, you know, return to Arendelle and reassure Roxas and Aqua that she was still alive. 

Larxene snapped, closing the distance between them. “You’re boring.”

“Not the first time I’ve been told that.”

Larxene raised a hand towards the sky and summoned a bolt from the void. It crackled in her hands, twisting and turning around each knife. She aimed; she threw.

Olette summoned her barrier on instinct. The knives wedged in-between the hexagons, as fruit in gelatin. As she dispersed the barrier, letting the knives fall– 

“That old party trick again?”

“It’s not _my_ usual spell.” Olette frowned as she seized the knives, catching them by their grips with little more than bare instinct.

Larxene’s knives were smaller and sharper than any kitchen knife, but the basic construction was the same. Even the hilt of the knives felt as heavy as the ones she had twirled and wielded under Little Chef’s guidance. She could wield these, if she ever needed to defend herself without a Keyblade. She wouldn't, because she avoided any chance to fight, but she could. 

A sudden understanding washed over Larxene as she blinked back surprise, “And now I suppose you’re going to hand my weapons back to me.” 

“Uh, probably?” Olette peered down at the knives. The hilts were worn with age, but the colors were still bright and vibrant, much like the platform. They didn’t look broken or dull– the opposite, in fact. Larxene must have polished and sharpened them on a regular basis. “Unless you don’t want them anymore?” 

“Of course I want them!” 

Larxene rushed to her, seizing them back with practiced, too-deft fingers. Olette flinched as she scooped out her back to avoid impact– 

The floor was shaking and wobbling again. New cracks were radiating from Larxene’s feet as she inspected the knives and murmured, “Sure, L. Come back and haunt me again. _If anyone can take back the darkness, it’s you._ What a bunch of bullcrock.”

Then she stomped upon the floor, and the entire platform gave way beneath them. 

The sun was shining upon them again. 

Olette rose to see a rainbow of colors, and a banner proclaiming an annual celebration in Daybreak Town. Buildings stretched out as far as her eye could see, with an eternal sun dancing above her head, and yet the laughter in her ears was universal. 

As she stood up to explore the town, a group of dancers rolled past her. A young pink-haired man was dancing with a younger Larxene, twirling her underneath his strong arms and stare at her with fond, loving affection– 

_You’re going to mess this up,_ Larxene’s voice echoed in Olette’s head. 

The real Larxene was laughing along with the pink-haired man, giving him a brilliant smile that lit up the whole pavilion. The other dancers flitted between them, but as far as the world was concerned, Larxene and this other man were the center. Confetti flew in their faces; they ignored it in favor of brushing it out of each other's hair. 

_You’re going to mess this up. You’re going to hurt him._

He leaned in to whisper something in Larxene’s ear. She gave him a coy laugh, intertwining her fingers in his. He squeezed her hand and drew her further into the dancing crowd.

_Your mind is wrong. You’re not good enough for him. You will never be the person he thinks you are– you’re wrong. You’re wrong. You’re wrong, wrong, WRONG–_

He then battled with Larxene. He summoned barriers and dissipated them in a shower of rose and cherry petals. He handed her her knives and told her she was better than the darkness. 

_You’re too good for me, Lauriam, and too stupid if you don’t realize that._

The flowers behind them were swirling up in a storm of rose petals, sucking up the life and color from every place it touched. The wind stole the vibrant colors and loving townspeople and returned that life with groups of Heartless Shadows– it gifted this shining town with black, beady-eyed creatures with a lust for something they couldn’t have– 

The pink-haired man was standing before Larxene and holding out his hand, almost yelling something at her. His words were garbled and impossible to hear over the storm but even Olette could make out three little words–

“–he loves you,” Olette murmured, putting a finger to her own lips. “He really loves you.” 

“ _You shouldn’t have bothered, baby bird_ ,” the younger Larxene said as she turned towards Olette and stared through the other’s very soul. “ _I made this happen. I ruined this._ ”

“You did no such thing,” Olette insisted through gritted teeth, digging her heels into the concrete. “There is _nothing_ to ruin, Larxene! You were doing okay!”

A loud, haughty laugh escaped Larxene’s lips as she plunged her hand straight into her heart and pulled it out–

The world spun again, sweeping Olette, Larxene, and the pink-haired man alike along with the Heartless. 

When Olette woke up again, she was staring up at the white-washed walls of the Land of Departure. She had spent too many hours under the pillars and stained glass windows to mistake it for any other world. Sure, its walls had fresh, white coats of paint, and the ceilings had been stretched to new heights. The walls were also nicked in the same places Terra and Aqua had scuffed them, and the floors were still tiled with the exact same circular blue-and-white mandalas. 

No matter how hard someone had tried to mask the place, it was still a home away from home. The sterile, unforgiving lights of this world wouldn’t hide its name from her. 

Lea, arms folded, was standing in front of a glowing purple circle statue. He tilted his head at it, as if trying to place it in his own memory– 

“Give it up, loser,” Larxene was scolding him from behind as she descended the stairs. “You’re never going to remember where you’ve seen it before.” 

“Oh, sure I am.” Lea didn’t even miss a beat as he glanced over his shoulder at her. “I lost my heart, not my memory. I’ve seen this before. I know I have.” 

“So now that makes you an expert on ugly statues?” 

“Hey now,” Lea laughed, with something close to actual affection, “That’s an insult to statues everywhere. _This_ happens to be a work of art.” 

“Or some trash Marluxia found on the side of the road,” Larxene had to point out as she gave the decoration a pointed look. Its glowing purple edges wouldn’t have been out of place in a terrible science fiction novel – and it had the misfortune of floating above a square base. The combination didn’t appeal to her aesthetic. “Which, honestly, you shouldn’t put past him.” 

“Nah. If Marluxia bought it, he would’ve painted it pink.” Lea’s smile was dangerously close to the one he gave Roxas and Xion, and Larxene seemed to know it too as she stepped back– 

_Are you happy, Axel? Are you expressing an actual honest-to-Gods emotion on me?_

“He didn’t exactly paint the castle pink,” Larxene pointed out instead, swallowing down her fear.

“Yeah, because it’s technically Xemnas’s.” Lea (Axel? )frowned, turning his focus back to the statue. “Makes you wonder why he’s so obsessed with the place anyway.” 

_Obsession is an emotion. None of us are supposed to have emotions. I didn’t want to feel anything. I’m wrong. This is wrong; I wasn’t supposed to feel–_

“Who cares?” Larxene forced out, with an exaggerated, sneering laugh that echoed through the hall. “All that matters is that you’ve got some stupid nagging memory about a statue. You’ve probably seen it in a book or something equally dumb.” 

“A book…” Lea (Axel?) tapped his fingers against his arm. “No, I think I saw it back in Radiant Garden. It’s like some Cornerstone–” 

“Blah blah blah,” Larxene interrupted, turning on her heels and looking up at the stairs. “I came to summon you, but clearly that thing is more important than our mission. I’ll leave you to it.” 

“Aw, and you used the stairs for little ol’ me? You truly do care!” 

“What?” Larxene hissed, her hair standing up on edge as she swerved at him. “Absolutely not! We’re Nobodies, Axel. We _can’t_ care.” 

He held up his hands in defense as he summoned a dark corridor. “Sheesh, it was a joke. I thought you, of all people, would’ve gotten it.” 

Her expression soured as she followed in after him, “A stupid joke.” 

_A stupid joke that reminds me that I can feel something I’m not supposed to._

As they vanished into the darkness, the dark corridor remained open. It beckoned to Olette, with its dark haze extending out towards her arms and pulling her in. 

In the real world, she might’ve fought its pull a little longer. In this weird, strange dream like haze where Larxene’s thoughts encroached on her own and interrupted her own internal monologue, she let it consume her whole.

Another world, another fancy castle, and a giant ice skating rink in the middle of summer.

Olette was greeted to the sound of metal clashing against ice, to classical music played by a live orchestra in the corner, and to the screams and hollers of children and adults alike as they whizzed by on ice skates. Food was piled high at a buffet in the corner, and yet everyone’s attention was on two sisters spinning each other around in a wide circle–

“I’m gonna get dizzy, Anna!” The queen was insisting as she spun in a wide loop in the middle. “Can we slow down a little?”

“Nope!” The younger girl - Anna - was insisting, with pure glee on her face as she knelt down and pulled Queen Elsa down with her, “That’s the whole point of ice skating! You go as fast as you can and you go, go, go!” 

“I’m pretty sure it isn’t!”

“And I’m pretty sure it is! Who do you believe: me, your beloved sister, or something as silly as common sense?”

Larxene was standing in the back, in the black cloak that had accompanied previous memories, with a scowl that didn’t match everyone else’s joy and wonder. In this heat, Olette had to wonder if the woman was positively sweltering – and that was with the ice and snow drizzling overhead. Larxene lowered the zipper of her clothes, revealing the maroon-gray shirt so prominent in her portrait.

“You betrayed me,” Larxene murmured, grabbing a champagne flute and downing it in one swift gulp. “You were supposed to fall to despair like the rest of us, and what do you do? Rebuild your relationship with your sister.” 

“Isn’t that the whole point?” Olette found herself asking the other-Larxene, weaving between people to keep even. “To pick yourself back up?”

She hadn’t known the queen for very long, if at all, and yet Olette couldn’t ignore the unbridled love and joy all over this summer festivity. The snow and ice may melt within seconds. The ice rink would have to replenish itself every 30 minutes or so. Queen Elsa didn’t seem to mind – not when her eyes and ears were all on her little sister. 

Anna, too, was dragging Queen Elsa by the hand and introducing her to everyone and anyone. The sisters had leaned in to share jokes, with expressions only siblings could truly understand, even as they re-acquainted themselves with the world at large. 

“Of course not,” Larxene spat out, reaching for another champagne flute. “The _point_ is to remove your heart, so the hurt can’t keep festering.”

Olette frowned. “That seems extreme.” 

A dangerous smile crossed Larxene’s features. “Extreme times call for extreme measures. Not that I’d expect you, of all people, to understand.”

“Excuse me?” Olette blinked back genuine rage, balling up her hands into fists. “We all have our struggles, Larxene! We all have some days that are worse than others – and believe it or not, we’ve all got hurt lingering in our hearts.”

Some, like Aqua, chose to ignore it in favor of rebuilding her world and establishing her legacy. Some, like Roxas, chose to bury it in hopes of finding something normal and mundane. Others still like Olette chose to face that hurt head-on and find something that would heal the pain lingering in everyone's hearts.

She couldn’t fix everything. She knew that some hearts hurt more than others, and even more would bruise before they found anything close to a solution.

Larxene may not want a solution– or maybe she did, if she was aiming for a fight. If Olette’s keyblade had unlocked Larxene’s heart for real, then Larxene would have become a Nobody.

Which was exactly what Larxene wanted all along.

Knitting her brow in sudden understanding, Olette turned to face Larxene, “Hey! Are you–”

Larxene had already ducked back into the shadows.

Against her better judgment, Olette rushed in after her.

The empty void greeted Olette again.

She was starting to grow comfortable with darkness - not in the absence of light or color, but in the silence it ushered in, and the memories that Olette had experienced through its unassuming void. She could feel Larxene's anger radiating off her, and she sure could hear Larxene's boots stomping up a storm in front of her. She couldn't see Larxene; not when the darkness threatened to consume them both whole in this thin, long corridor between worlds. She didn't need to as she rushed to bridge the distance between them.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course not!” Larxene froze, and only the turning of her boots gave her position away. “You went through my memories and _that_ was your grand conclusion?”

Her frankly, not-terrible memories full of people who cared and loved her. Or in Queen Elsa’s case, people who would have loved her if they had been able to see past her self-imposed defenses. Daybreak Town had been full of light and promise. Lea's long lecture about the Cornerstone had seemed pointed– as if trying to engage with her on a deeper level, and honestly, the ice rink had seemed kind of fun. All were positive experience. All could have been true, loving memories.

Olette winced. “Right. I should’ve rephrased that. Why are you so against feelings, anyway?”

“Because! Feelings make you _responsible_ for things, for people, for everything and anything that crosses your path. Don’t you hate that?”

“Kind of, but that doesn’t mean I stop trying.”

Larxene grew silent. After what felt like a few minutes, Olette thought that Larxene might have stomped off ahead and left her behind–

“Why?” Larxene’s voice almost cracked. “Why would you see all of that and keep _going_?”

“Because that’s what makes us human.” Olette didn’t hesitate as she placed her hands over her heart and gripped the fabric of her parka. This, she knew with every once of her being. “Every day becomes another chance. It doesn’t matter who we were yesterday, as long as we try again today.”

“Big words from a little baby bird.” Larxene almost sounded thoughtful, despite it all, as she stepped towards Olette. “How do I know you're not lying?”

Olette had to laugh, “Because. I don’t make it a habit to say things I don’t mean. What you see is what you get.”

Larxene's laugh was genuine this time as she stretched out a hesitant, shaking hand. “I should've known. Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer.” Yet, despite the bravado in her voice, despite the sudden warmth in the darkness, every finger was trembling with unspoken fear and rejection.

Olette grasped it in her own and intertwined its fingers in hers. She couldn't help the relief in her voice as she squeezed their hands tight and hoped that they wouldn't let go.

“Let’s go home, Elrena.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of this chapter was illustrated by the wonderful [Sana](https://twitter.com/sanafreemanart)! As it is [a video](https://sanaart.tumblr.com/post/190562591899/my-piece-ive-done-for-the), it cannot be directly linked here; however, please take a look when you get the chance because it is jawdropping!


	8. renewals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their training mission, Olette, Aqua, and Roxas discuss their pasts - and more importantly, how their futures connect them together.

The palace was still chilly. As her eyes fluttered open, Olette had hoped that maybe, just maybe, her body (her bones, her muscle, heck, every atom vibrating in her body) would have adjusted to the cold. 

Instead, she was greeted to a brightly illuminated room, with its ceiling ripped open and exposed to the sun overhead. Olette blinked, ignoring the sudden bright spots in her eye as she clutched her Wayfinder. She flipped it over in her palm. Its soft, faint glow still illuminated her hand.

“Oh, good,” Olette couldn’t help murmuring, tucking the necklace under her parka. “Glad it's safe and sound.”

“Mm, five more minutes, Mom...” Elrena’s (exhausted) voice called from beside her. 

As Olette glanced down to Elrena’s sleeping form, she couldn’t help releasing a soft sigh of relief. Despite all of this, despite the frenzy of chaotic memories and the shattering of her Station of the Heart, Elrena was still here in one piece. 

Their hands, still intertwined, lay between them, immune to the chill of the icy floor underneath and the sudden lack of a ceiling above.

Olette squeezed Elrena’s palm. “Take all the time you need.”

“Olette?” Master Aqua’s voice cut through the silence, “How’re you holding up?” 

“I’m okay! Over here!” Olette waved her free hand in the direction of the now-open doorway, beckoning for him to walk over. 

Roxas was the first to sprint to her side, sweat dripping off his forehead as he sunk to his knees before her. Bits of his spiky hair were flaked with ice, and his entire face burned a bright red, yet none of that seemed to matter as he brushed her hair out of her eyes. 

“I’m so glad you’re safe.” Then his eyes registered Elrena’s sleeping form, and he shot Olette a bewildered look– “Wait. Is that–”

“It’s a very long story,” Olette admitted with a soft laugh. “Where’s Queen Elsa?”

“Rebuilding what we destroyed during your training,” Aqua called, folding her arms as she walked in and inspected their intruder, “As for your study, we have all the time in the world to hear it.” 

Without mincing words, Olette relayed the broad strokes of Elrena’s intrusion: how Elrena had burst into the room and demanded a battle; how Olette had unlocked her heart; and how Elrena had been ‘Recompleted,’ whatever that meant. 

She couldn’t bring herself to disclose the shattering of Elrena’s platform, let alone the memories cobbled together in pain and misery. Those had been happy memories once. They _were_ happy memories to an outsider: a man professing his love; a friend trying to get another to lighten up; two sisters enjoying a warm summer’s day. If Elrena allowed her heart to piece itself back together, then perhaps they would reclaim that light. 

Somehow, deep down, Olette couldn’t trust Roxas or Aqua to hold those same intentions. Roxas was glaring at Elrena with murderous intent, and Aqua’s expression was too solemn to hold any mercy.

So she refrained, for once in her life, holding back those memories as she held her Wayfinder. Only the broad strokes: the deep dive, the longing for a fight, and the witnessing of a memory or two. 

At the end of her story, Roxas and Master Aqua shared uneasy looks. 

“I _told you so_! There was no point in keeping anything from her,” Roxas hissed, turning his body to face Aqua. He pointed a finger at her chest, “She would’ve been better prepared!” 

“She would’ve been overwhelmed!” Aqua insisted, narrowing her eyes at Roxas and hunching her back at him. She flung her arms in Olette’s direction, “It would’ve been way too much for one person to take in!” 

Olette coughed. “ _She’s right here_ , and she happens to think that she’s owed some kind of explanation.” 

As Roxas hung his head and shoulders in shame, Master Aqua faced Olette and clasped her hands together.

“When Elrena lost her heart, she became a Nobody called Larxene, and worked alongside Roxas in Organization XII. During the Keyblade War, Xehanort asked Larxene to fight alongside him as one of the thirteen darknesses. She fought us in one of the final battles at the Keyblade Graveyard, where Sora defeated her.” Aqua explained, her gaze falling on the still-sleeping Elrena. “After that, she regained her heart and became whole again, and somehow… I guess... she ended up back here?” 

“That’s what she told me.” Olette sat up straighter, releasing her grip on Elrena and reaching for Roxas’s hands. “Sora defeated her, so she regained her heart and became whole again, except…”

Aqua’s and Roxas’s expressions grew inquisitive, and Olette found herself wanting to disclose the most precious truth of all.

So Olette sucked in a nervous breath and met their gazes head-on. “Now…. she doesn’t really want to be whole.” 

Which was how Olette got dragged into this sorry mess to begin with, though truthfully – she wasn’t sure which was worse: Larxene wanting to remove the hurt, Aqua wanting to ignore it in favor of a promise, or Roxas burying it deep down and pretending it no longer existed. 

If these three were to truly heal – truly, wholly heal – they would have to acknowledge the broken pieces lurking deep in their hearts. 

Their old Masters must have never contemplated this possibility. Or worse, their old Masters had known such a fate would await their students, and their old Masters didn’t care. 

“What?” Roxas blinked back frantic alarm and surprise, “She _wants_ to be a Nobody? Knowing what that hell was like?”

“It was _heaven_ , little Roxas,” Elrena chided softly, rising to her feet to face them. Her pants were dripping with melting water, and even her hair seemed damper than before with the icicles stuck to her antennae - but she ignored the chill. “Don’t pretend that your life was all doom and gloom. There was good in that world too– or did Axel and Xion mean nothing to you?” 

Roxas scowled, squeezing Olette’s hands tight. “Don’t bring them into this!” 

“I can't pretend to know the losses you must have felt, time after time,” Aqua said, stepping between Olette and Roxas and holding an outstretched arm in front of them, “But you shouldn’t have brought Olette into this either. She wasn’t involved in–”

“Oh, _please_ ,” Elrena scoffed, blowing her nails dry and shaking her hand, “You dragged her in the second you made her your apprentice. If she were so normal, she wouldn’t have a Keyblade to begin with. _You_ made that happen, ‘Master’ Aqua.” 

Aqua’s gaze dropped to the floor as her expression crumbled and her entire body went limp. Her Master’s presence deflated and shrunk to almost nothing, right before her eyes, with the confidence and maturity swiftly departing the very room in which they stood.

In defiance to that swift judgment, Roxas intertwined his fingers with Olette’s, wrapping his pinky especially tight around hers. 

“ _Olette_ agreed to such terms,” Roxas retorted, raising his chin at Elrena. “She wanted this. She _chose_ this life– and I would know. I was there.”

Elrena’s laugh was haughty and smug. “So you keep claiming, as if she had the agency, the autonomy, and the knowledge to make such an informed choice. But did she really know? Did Aqua even try to inform her of the danger?” 

“Aqua was doing the best she could,” Olette interrupted, rising to her full height and pulling Roxas up with her. “So was Roxas, and frankly, Elrena, so were you.”

They were all gawking at her as if she had grown a second head, but Olette held onto Roxas’s hands and squeezed them tight. His presence was comforting, and in his touch, she could only hope to pull out enough strength to reveal the truth hiding behind their shadows. She couldn’t sacrifice this momentum when she was so close - so dangerously close - to having their thick skulls realize the truth right in front of them– 

“You all lived through something I could never imagine. Some, longer than others, but still long enough that every morning and every single day, the aftershocks stay with you. I see them when when Master Aqua cries over the shoyu she makes us for dinner and when she stays up at all hours of the night unable to sleep, or when Roxas is forever on edge at the movies and plans escape routes, just in case–”

“–in case the Heartless attack us again and our world is lost to the darkness,” Roxas finished, his eyes widening in horrified realization at her, Master Aqua, and Elrena. 

Master Aqua reached out to touch Olette. Her shaking, trembling hand hung suspended in the air, stuck in the distance between them–

“I see it when Elrena wants to fight me, because that’ll remove the pain faster than trying to patch it up again,” Olette continued, reaching out to grab Aqua’s other hand. “You’re all hurting. Every single one of you, even if you’re not great at telling each other just what’s going on.” 

She squeezed Aqua’s and Roxas’s hands, pulling them together so she could reach out for Elrena’s – 

“What? Hurting? Me?” Elrena was laughing again, with shock and terror in her eyes as she stepped back from Olette, “You’ve gotta be kidding me. What do you know about Keyblades and war, baby bird? A big boatload of nothing.” 

“I think that’s why she notices the little things,” Roxas murmured. “ _Because_ she wasn’t brainwashed into ignoring it or pushing it aside.” 

“– because she’s not a warrior,” Aqua finished, her own Wayfinder now glowing in sync with Olette’s. “She’s something else entirely.” 

“Yeah, an idiot baby bird with clipped wings and a total inability to keep her nose out of everyone’s business–”

Olette let go of her friends’ hands just long enough to embrace Elrena, wrapping her arms tight around the woman’s waist and pulling her in close. 

“It’s okay, Elrena. You don’t have to be strong anymore,” whispered Olette, standing on her tiptoes and digging her arms into the thin fabric of Elrena's maroon-grey shirt, to better hold her in this moment. 

_You didn’t ruin anything_ , she wanted to say. _You’re going to be okay. You’re kintsugi, and you will find the balance you crave. If not today, then some day._

With Aqua and Roxas present, however, she could only hope that her heart would serve as Elrena’s guiding key. No, that her heart would serve as all of their guiding keys and bring all of them back home.

A soft, muffled sob left Elrena’s chest as she buried herself in Olette’s chest. Elrena’s fingers clung to the back of Olette’s parka, and as the woman held onto Olette for dear life - as her strength and will fell back into the palace - 

The ceilings re-emerged in a burst of spectacular ice, shielding them all from the harsh sunlight and wind above. The drips of water froze into place as new icy blooms illuminated each and every corner. A chill and a twirl of ice gave way to a small, open window where Queen Elsa stood, leaning in to see everyone.

“Sorry I took so long!” She waved at them, pushing her cape back so she was more visible. “The damage was more internal than I expected, but it’s all patched up again. Is everyone okay?” 

Roxas and Aqua gave Olette knowing, if rueful and remorseful expressions. 

“No,” Olette said, allowing sorrow and hurt to color her voice, “But we’re all _going_ to be okay.” 

Elsa paused, twiddling her thumbs as she surveyed the scene, “Um… I meant, physically? Are we all _physically_ okay?” 

Elrena pulled away long enough from Olette to wipe the snot off her nose. With an awkward, uncertain smile, she gave the Queen an equally shaky thumbs-up. 

Roxas nodded in agreement, leaning into Master Aqua’s side and elbowing her a little, “Yeah, yeah. No blood, no broken bones. No need to summon the palace guards.” 

“But we do owe you some cake,” Master Aqua said, “So let’s return to the castle and regroup there? You promised us, might I remind you.” 

After a long soak in the tub to warm her poor, poor bones and a change of fresh clothes, Olette ventured down to the royal library. 

She wasn’t sure what she was searching for, not exactly. Arendelle hadn’t struck her as a world full of recent technological advances, let alone one well-acquainted with scientific theory, but it had to have _something_ on the heart. The library must’ve had some book that described the secrets and worries buried deep in people’s souls, and how to safely hold and discuss those secrets before they shatter and break. 

As she entered the room, she noted the roaring fireplace first, and Aqua sitting cross-legged in front of it. Her Master was pouring over thick tomes, copying and transcribing passages into a spiral notebook and murmuring to herself. 

“Master Aqua? What’re you doing?” Olette sat down nearby, leaning forward to read the current passage. 

“Hey, Olette.” Aqua’s face turned a faint pink as she set a couple of books aside. “Just getting some light reading in.”

“Looks pretty heavy, from where I’m sitting.” 

A soft, tired huff escaped Aqua’s lips, “That’s one way to put it. I was thinking a lot about what you said - about how we’ve let the Keyblade War stay with us and live deep in our hearts, even after all’s said and done. It got me wondering if other worlds experienced it too. So I came down here to read up on Arendelle’s history. Turns out, they have. More than we ever did, in fact.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me.” Olette nodded, resting an arm on the floor as she settled in, “I mean, I’m not a world traveler the way you or Roxas are, but it kind of seems… any time you have a huge group of people and they don’t agree on something, there’s a chance it could end in a fight.” 

“They all fought because they had something they believed in,” Aqua murmured. “Something they wanted to protect with their lives.” 

“Yeah, but once all is said and done… How do the soldiers feel? How do they go from fighting to a life of relative peace and quiet?” 

Aqua fell silent, pulling out her own Wayfinder and holding it up to the fire. Its soft, cerulean glow shone through her fingers and bits of Olette’s nearby arm. Unlike Olette’s new, sturdy Wayfinder, Aqua’s was rough around the edges, with bits worn off and faded. Its metallic center was rusty around the edges too, despite multiple rounds of polishing. It was beautiful and exhausted, all at once. 

“I don’t know,” Aqua confessed, swallowing down fear. “Truth is, Olette, I don’t think I’ve ever lived in a world without the Heartless or Unversed. I try to think about what it must feel like - but all I think is, I’m not doing enough. I’m not trying enough, and if I stop trying, then I’m failing my old Master.” 

_You aren’t failing him_ , Olette wanted to refute. 

If Master Eraqus could see Master Aqua now, he would see a young woman with the weight of a whole world on her shoulders, unaware that it was no longer her burden to shoulder. He would see her struggling to find inner peace; he would see her reading and reading to find some solace; and he would see her running towards the light, time after time. She was chasing the truth with what knowledge she had.

“He should be proud of you, no matter what,” Olette chose to say instead, reaching out to wrap her hand over her Master’s. “Like, I’ve never met him, so I can’t say what he would think or feel, but… if he’s anything like you are, he should be proud to see how far you’ve come.” 

Aqua hiccuped, brushing back tears from her eyes, “You think?”

Olette leaned in, resting her head on Aqua’s shoulder. “I _know_ so. You’re the best teacher a girl could ask for.” 

Their Wayfinders glowed in sync together, washing the room in orange and blue. They sat in silence, listening to the crackling of the fire and the bustle of the hallway outside. The outside world seemed to melt away and vanish. 

When Olette inherited her Keyblade, she had promised Aqua and Roxas that she would end the remnants of the war raging in their hearts. She had no clue what the end of an internal war would look like, let alone feel – but she could imagine now that it involved shared warmth and love. It involved acknowledgment of those fears, of those little nagging voices stuck in their heads, and of reassuring them that it would be alright. 

She didn’t know how long they sat there, listening to the roar of the fireplace or the wind rustling outside, but after a while, Aqua pulled back to wipe the last of her tears. 

“Thank you, Olette.” 

“For what?” Olette had to ask, with a small, almost amused huff as she stood up. “I didn’t do much of anything.” 

“You did so much more than that,” Aqua insisted, with a real, genuine smile that shone brighter than any Wayfinder. The edges of her eyes were genuinely crinkling as her expression widened– “You gave me real hope again. I think… I’ve found my way again.” 

“So I lived up to your imaginary expectations?”

Aqua’s laugh was loud and rich, echoing through the room, “More than I could’ve ever dreamed of. You were an exceptional student, Olette. I doubt that there'll be another like you for a long, long time.”

A warm, fuzzy feeling warmed over Olette as she turned towards the door, “In that case, Master Aqua, I should be thanking you - for everything.” 

“Of course. Um, after this… if you want to go home…” 

Olette paused, leaning on the door, “Why would I want to do that?”

“It’s your call, remember? Whether you want to keep being a Keyblade bearer or not?”

Right, the very same terms they had agreed upon in a verbal contract. Regardless of the actual mission’s success (and how she hadn't found the broken heart hidden in Elsa's ice palace), Olette could walk away from this life forever. She could relinquish her Keyblade to someone else and forget each and every moment of this life. 

Funny thing was, she couldn’t ever imagine herself doing so: not now, and not in a million heartbeats. She couldn't forget Master Aqua, or Terra, or Ven. She couldn't forget Elrena and the loss and hurt swirling around her new friend, and she especially couldn't forget the bonds she had forged with Roxas through training and hard work. They had all become too precious to lose.

“Well, about that,” Olette grinned, fighting back a laugh. “I think there’s room for a lot of different kinds of Keyblades, don’t you?”

Aqua stared at her for what felt like forever, with shock and understanding on her face all at once, before she too returned that bright, beautiful smile–

“I think so too,” whispered Aqua, as genuine relief washed over her. “Keyblades like yours, Olette, aren’t meant to fight. They’re meant to rebuild what’s been lost.” 

“Did you pick that up from your fancy Arendelle books?”

Another laugh escaped Aqua’s lips, right as Olette turned to leave– “No. That, I learned from you.”

Everyone was recovering from this mission in their own way, Olette was coming to realize. 

Master Aqua had commandeered the library for last-minute research; Queen Elsa and her younger sister were sitting cross-legged in the garden and building daisy chains from thin air; and Roxas had seemed to vanish into the castle altogether. Arendelle's lofty, expansive grounds compassed more space than the Land of Departure, and perhaps any other castle in Olette's imagination. It also, infuriatingly, seemed to disregard all sense of direction.

As Olette left the library in search of Roxas, she kept losing her way. Lefts became rights; rights became lefts; and frustratingly enough, hallways stopped before they started. Right as she gave up on finding him, she had ended up at the edge of such a hallway, where a wide, vast room stood, filled with wall-to-ceiling portraits.

Roxas stood in the middle of that room, peering up at a massive, framed painting. His figure blocked most of its composition, but Olette could see a lofty clocktower spanning most of the canvas and a flowing river just beside it. ' _The Clock Tower_ ,' the painting had been captioned. A fitting, if somewhat on-the-nose, kind of name. 

On cue, another clock in the room chimed the hour. Roxas drew in a breath, his body swaying to the rhythm of the timekeeper. 

Olette almost (almost!) felt bad about sneaking up on him and calling, “Roxas?”

“Hey, Olette.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, before returning his gaze to the painting. “You know, when I was with Organization XIII… I didn’t really think I had much of a future.”

She stood beside him and stared up at the thick brushstrokes. Up close, she could see the detail and the bits of hair stuck to the painting - and even the remnants of the pencil sketch that had guided the painter's touch. 

The painting was ultimately of two people sitting at the top of the clock tower's belfry and exchanging a passionate kiss. The man had cupped the woman’s cheek; the woman had returned that kiss, hiding the finer details with her wide-brimmed hat. Although they were dressed in thick, winter clothes, the secrecy and depths of their affection were as clear as the vibrant sunset hues of the painting. 

“Yeah?” She leaned in, resting a head on his shoulder. “How come?”

“For starters, I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t even know what a heart was, just that it was important. Once I had one, I would be whole again.” 

“And… do you feel whole now?”

Roxas reached for Olette’s hand, guiding it to rest on his rising chest. Even from here, Olette could feel his soft, constant heartbeat. 

“It’s still beating, isn’t it?” His voice was full of awe and wonder, even now. “All this time, I assumed your chest was supposed to feel empty and hollow – but it’s full now. It rattles around in my chest and it beats so loudly when I’m tired and it hurts so much sometimes… but it’s _mine._ ” 

“It’ll always be yours. Hearts are what keep me and you alive, after all,” she reminded him, even as her cheeks flushed with sudden color. 

He was - they were - They were friends.

Friends who were comfortable in this silence, who listened to each other's heartbeats even as their faces burned too red for comfort, and who looked at portraits of other people making out as if it were no big deal. Friends who trained together; friends who stood by each other thick and thin; friends who ferried each other between worlds and studied together for upcoming tests while they placed the Gummi ship on autopilot. 

Then again, she had to remind herself, Roxas was socialized (indoctrinated, really) in a completely different world. The norms and rules in Organization XIII must’ve been so, so alien to what she, Hayner, and Pence had always known. Later, she supposed, she could always ask Lea and Isa about that world. 

For now, she was content to stand here with Roxas and pinpoint details in a still painting. His mere presence grounded her, and if her suspicions were right, hers grounded him in turn.

“I shouldn’t have interfered, back when Aqua gave you the Keyblade,” he murmured, gripping her wrist and twisting the beads of her favorite bracelet. His fingers moved up and down, as if counting the beads one-by-one. “I’m sorry, Olette. It was your choice - no, it’ll always be your choice. I’ll support you the whole way.” 

“It’s okay,” she found herself saying, leaning in to him more and inhaling his scent. He smelled of clean linens and shampoo - probably whatever the Queen’s guards had on hand. “You knew what my life was like before all of this. You were only trying to help.” 

“Yeah, but look where that ended up anyway. You met _Larxene_ on your first day out, and you just, I don’t know – you defeated her without a single hit.” 

“I helped _Elrena_ sift her thoughts,” Olette corrected, bristling at the insinuation. “Not everything ends in a fight, Roxas. Sometimes - well, sometimes, you use your Keyblade to rebuild what’s been lost. You’ll point yours at me and heal me with a Curaga, right? That’s all I did with Elrena.”

Elrena’s Station of the Heart had been too splintered for a fight. If Elrena had succumbed to the despair deep inside, her heart would have split - and frankly, Olette wasn’t sure if Elrena would’ve wanted to become Larxene again. Not with that dark, desperate shadow looming over her.

All Elrena needed was a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

Roxas’s voice grew soft, “Give yourself some credit. If I, or Aqua, or hell, if the Queen had tried to heal her, she wouldn’t have accepted it. She wouldn’t have even looked us in the eye.”

“But…”

“But she let you in. She believed in you. I should’ve had that same faith in you all along, instead of saying you were normal or that you wouldn’t have been able to stand and fight–”

Olette swerved on her heels and shifted her body so that they were standing face-to-face, “Roxas?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” she whispered, standing on her tip-toes and pulling him close for a single, chaste kiss. “You’ve done so much for me more than you think.” 

Roxas froze, blinking back in surprise as he peered at her. God, maybe she had totally misread the situation. Maybe his heart had belonged to someone else (to _Xion_ , to the shared and unbreakable history between them) this whole time, and she had always been just a friend–

“What was that for?” He pressed two fingers to his lips, fighting back a smile. 

“It’s a kiss?” Olette flinched, waiting for the inevitable rejection, “You know, something you give someone when you love them very much and want to go on dates with them and–”

“Kidding, Olette. I know what they are. I had to live with Sora's thoughts for like, forever,” Roxas laughed, bridging the distance between them to steal a kiss of his own, “I just never thought you’d give _me_ one.” 

“Oh,” was all she could say as she was swept up in his arms. 

Dinner hadn’t felt this warm and inviting in a long, long time. 

Once everyone had showered and recuperated from their training mission, and Terra and Ventus had been called to collect their ridiculously small bribe, they all regathered in the royal kitchens for a rich, multiple-course meal worthy of every Princess of Heart, and of course, one final celebration to commemorate their trip. 

Princess Anna had decked the main wall separating the dining room and kitchen with a hand-written painted banner that read _‘Congratulations Olette!’_ and in even smaller handwriting that almost slid off the wide canvas, _‘Happy Recompletion, Elrena!’_ Both were surrounded by hearts and lopsided flowers and even a stick figure of the two holding hands. 

Ventus and Terra stood on ladders on either side, pinning the thick banner up to some quick, temporary hooks–

“Hold still!” Terra was laughing, despite his attempt to scold, “This thing can’t hang itself, Ven.” 

Ventus scrunched his whole face up in turn, “I am! What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time?”

“I don’t know, but it sure isn’t _hanging this up_?!”

“Looks like a couple of lazy bones from here,” Elrena teased, now dressed in a cerulean blue blazer, white button-down shirt, and same-shade cerulean skirt that reached her knees. A pair of black tights were her only concession to the weather. “I thought you Keyblade bearers were supposed to be big and strong?”

“I don't think strength is the defining characteristic here,” Ventus laughed, lifting the banner higher as he stood on his tiptoes.

The three of them exchanged exaggerated, irritated faces, right before they burst into loud, rich laughter that bounced off the walls. Together, Ven and Terra finally secured each corner of the lofty, wonderfully-painted banner.

Olette couldn’t help giggling at them as she lifted her Gummiphone to the ceiling and stole a picture of the moment. Elrena ducked into frame, sticking her tongue out as she gave the camera a lazy, content smile.

When Olette was younger, she used to dream of cooking in such a spacious kitchen. She had imagined wide and well-stocked pantries with ingredients from various worlds; long and gleaming countertops stacked with appliances; and sous-chefs that retreated into the shadows until summoned. 

Tonight, she would once again take center stage as head-chef. She had an apron with her name on it, and she would use it to bake a cake worthy of her Master, the Queen, and her new friend. A cake worthy of all of them, really – for supporting and believing in her, regardless of what had happened before. Her childhood dreams paled in comparison to the reality of delegating her friends and her loved ones. Great chefs connected a whole community through a single dish, and while Olette couldn't consider herself a great just yet, she _could_ bask in the affection and consideration of her friends. 

As she passed through the kitchen doors and grabbed her apron, she couldn't help grinning at Roxas. Her sous-chef had already assembled all the necessary ingredients together, and he was even listening to Queen Elsa prop up a cookbook. The two of them waved upon seeing her.

“Iiiii suddenly have to go iron my kitten,” Queen Elsa grinned, sliding just out the door and giving them confident thumbs-ups.

Olette had to laugh at the queen's audacity, but truthfully, even Elsa's awkward wing-womaning couldn't get her down. Not today, and truthfully, not ever.

“Setting all of that aside... You know, Olette,” Roxas teased from behind as he grabbed a spare black apron and tied it around his clothes, “It looks like we’ll be working together again.” 

“Sure you don’t want to be head chef again?” Olette teased right back, giving him a cheeky grin as she tied her own around her back. “You looked so good with Little Chef, right up until the stove went up in flames…”

He grimaced, leaning in to pinch and smush her cheeks with the faintest and lightest of force, “You _had_ to remind me of that?”

“Hey, it was cute!”

“For who? You or Little Chef?” He frowned, pinching a little harder, “It sure wasn’t cute to me!”

Aqua laughed as she walked towards them with a couple of cake pans and a stand mixer, “Um… am I interrupting something?” 

Roxas’s face and ears burned brighter than any tomato – yet he refused to let go of Olette’s cheeks. He pinched them even harder as he scrunched up his nose, “Only Olette giving me the hardest time of my life.” 

“That’s rough,” Aqua had to tease, fighting back giggles as she leaned on the counter. “Sure you can handle the heat?” 

Olette crowed, almost preening despite the sudden pain to her face, “That’s _exactly_ what I asked him.”

“You two are officially the worst,” Roxas scowled as he let go, though his eyes were twinkling too hard for him to truly, honestly be mad. 

Olette and Aqua leaned forward to bump each other’s fists– 

“Well,” they said in perfect sync, “We certainly try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, many thanks to Jay and Sana for their help and cheerleading as this chapter was written. Although the Nebula has ended, I wish to see this to very end - and while the main story is complete, there is an epilogue in our future, so hang tight! 
> 
> Comments, kudos, and everything in-between are appreciated and loved. Thank you all for your support ♥


	9. journeys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> – and so the journey continues.

At this moment, at this very point in time, a recovering, Recompleted keyblade bearer yearned for home.

Arendelle Castle was filled with its own love and light, aimed at everyone sitting around the dinner table. Their laughter was contagious, and their food delicious, but it wasn’t home. It wasn’t Daybreak Town, and neither were the people she had come to hold close to her heart. 

Olette, Roxas, and even the Queen would share new, precious memories with her. Their hearts were forever connected through the Hurt and the Recompletion. Elrena would treasure this world, and the people within, but these people weren’t home. Pretending as much would do them a disservice. 

Worse– Ventus’s familiarity ached in her bones, yet she couldn’t place him. Maybe a long time ago, in another life, they too had known each other. In this life, in the present, he was an echo of Roxas (or was that vice-versa?). 

“Here, try some,” Ventus was saying as he loaded her plate with cheesecake slices and whipped cream. The poor boy was drowning her dessert in sugar and more sugar– “Aqua made this, and she’s the _best_ at it.”

“Thanks,” Elrena mumbled, unable to look him in the eye.

The new lovebirds on the other side of the table were exchanging soft, warm laughs as they held hands under the table. They would live happily ever after – and Lord help them if they believed their antics were fooling anyone. 

“You alright?” Queen Elsa was mouthing at the keyblade bearer. “Elrena, you look a little green.”

“Couldn’t be better,” Elrena lied, unable to tear her gaze away. 

Then Olette’s eyes met Elrena’s. Her new friend’s expression softened into one of those blinding, stupid baby bird smiles full of love and sap, and Elrena knew she needed to leave. 

Any good journey began at dawn. 

When Lauriam and Elrena traveled across the universe, when they were with Dandelion, when darkness and light were on opposite ends of the spectrum – they left at sunrise. Elrena saw no reason to change that status quo. She had no real belongings to speak of, let alone a solid gummi ship or one of those new-fangled phones – but that was half of the fun of the journey. Or so Lauriam had used to tell her. 

The old Elrena hadn’t believed him. Their duties had superseded their personal desires and whims. They had to _be_ Somebody, and Somebodies didn’t have time to waste on journeys and detours. In hindsight, the new Elrena wished she had listened to his heart, and let their inner tempos be their guiding key. 

As she turned to give Arendelle Castle one last, longing look, she couldn’t help the sigh escaping her lips.

Her only duty was to herself: to mend the aches and tears still lingering in her heart, and to hopefully find her full, realized sense of self. To remember how to wear the hurt, when it lingers longer than her shadow. 

To –

To see Lauriam waiting at the Castle gates, as if he had always been there, leaning on the goal post as if he were part of the local landscape. 

His hair was longer now, and his brow was more furrowed and wrinkled. Yet he held that same stupid rose between his fingers, and his eyes lit up like Olette’s wayfinder at the sight of her. 

“Morning, El.” His voice was softer, too - like before, like when he was Lauriam and not Marluxia. Like they were partners, and not the girl who had ruined his entire life in one fell swoop. “Ready to hit the road?” 

She laughed, despite herself, holding onto her stomach to contain herself– “How did you know I was here?”

“Oh, I texted him, or I guess Ienzo did,” Olette’s voice chirped from behind. “Ienzo knew a guy who knew how to get in touch with him, so… once that ball started rolling, it just… didn’t stop?”

Elrena rolled her eyes. “Meddling as usual, baby bird.”

“I thought it was kind of sweet,” Lauriam admitted, with a slight blush in his cheeks. Idiot was blushing over nothing, as usual. 

“Nauseating,” Elrena couldn’t help teasing, even as she walked closer to him. “The word you’re looking for is _nauseating._ ” 

He stretched his hand out towards her. “Well, _nauseating_ or not… the offer still stands.”

As she stared down at his trembling, almost uncertain hand, she swallowed down her fear and nerves – and she took that hand, squeezing it tight as her fingers interlaced with his. 

“I’ve got a hell of a lot of baggage with me,” she murmured, peering down at their hands. Her hand was tiny against his now, she was realizing. “Sure you don’t want to rethink this?” 

Lauriam’s expression grew fond, if wistful. “We _all_ have our own baggage. But that’s what friends are for, El - to help lighten the load where we can. I’m sorry. I–I should’ve been better at helping you with yours, all those years ago.”

“I wouldn’t have let you, remember.” 

His laugh was soft and faint– “Just means I should’ve tried harder to split the load. Let myself deal with that hurt too.”

“Well, whatever,” Elrena said with a small huff, grinning back at him. His idiocy hadn’t changed, at least. He was still Lauriam, rose petals and stupid compassion and all. “Past is past. We can’t change our stupid. We’ve gotta work with what we have.. Limited brain cells and all.”

Lauriam squeezed her hand tight. “Glad to have you back.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Elrena smothered a smile as she followed his lead. “Let’s hurry up and get out of here.” 

Olette cupped her hands to her mouth and called after them– “Hang in there, both of you!” 

A soft, fulfilled snort escaped Elrena as she turned to give her new friend one last look. “Whatever you say, baby bird. Don’t forget to take care of yourself too.”

Hand over heart, Olette’s smile was just as soft and warm– “Don’t worry. I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks the end of Duties and Promises!
> 
> I know times are challenging and tough for everyone, so: thank you to everyone who's stuck around and seen this to completion. Your support has meant the world, and I hope you're all staying safe and protected to the best of your ability. ♥


End file.
